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"Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes"
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Adventure VII
The Crooked Man
One summer night, a few months after my marriage, I was seated by my
own hearth smoking a last pipe and nodding over
a novel, for my day`s work had been an
exhausting one. My wife had already gone
upstairs, and the sound of the locking of the
hall door some time before told me that the
servants had also retired. I had risen from my
seat and was knocking out the ashes of my pipe
when I suddenly heard the clang of the bell.
I looked at the clock. It was a quarter to
twelve. This could not be a visitor at so late
an hour. A patient, evidently, and possibly an
all-night sitting. With a wry face I went out
into the hall and opened the door. To my
astonishment it was Sherlock Holmes who stood
upon my step.
"Ah, Watson," said he, "I hoped that I might
not be too late to catch you."
"My dear fellow, pray come in."
"You look surprised, and no wonder! Relieved,
too, I fancy! Hum! You still smoke the Arcadia
mixture of your bachelor days then! There`s no
mistaking that fluffy ash upon your coat. It`s
easy to tell that you have been accustomed to
wear a uniform, Watson. You`ll never pass as a
pure-bred civilian as long as you keep that
habit of carrying your handkerchief in your
sleeve. Could you put me up tonight?"
"With pleasure."
"You told me that you had bachelor quarters
for one, and I see that you have no gentleman
visitor at present. Your hat-stand proclaims as
much."
"I shall be delighted if you will stay."
"Thank you. I`ll fill the vacant peg then.
Sorry to see that you`ve had the British workman
in the house. He`s a token of evil. Not the
drains, I hope?"
"No, the gas."
"Ah! He has left two nail-marks from his boot
upon your linoleum just where the light strikes
it. No, thank you, I had some supper at
Waterloo, but I`ll smoke a pipe with you with
pleasure."
I handed him my pouch, and he seated himself
opposite to me and smoked for some time in
silence. I was well aware that nothing but
business of importance would have brought him to
me at such an hour, so I waited patiently until
he should come round to it.
"I see that you are professionally rather
busy just now," said he, glancing very keenly
across at me.
"Yes, I`ve had a busy day," I answered. "It
may seem very foolish in your eyes," I added,
"but really I don`t know how you deduced it."
Holmes chuckled to himself.
"I have the advantage of knowing your habits,
my dear Watson," said he. "When your round is a
short one you walk, and when it is a long one
you use a hansom. As I perceive that your boots,
although used, are by no means dirty, I cannot
doubt that you are at present busy enough to
justify the hansom."
"Excellent!" I cried.
"Elementary," said he. "It is one of those
instances where the reasoner can produce an
effect which seems remarkable to his neighbor,
because the latter has missed the one little
point which is the basis of the deduction. The
same may be said, my dear fellow, for the effect
of some of these little sketches of yours, which
is entirely meretricious, depending as it does
upon your retaining in your own hands some
factors in the problem which are never imparted
to the reader. Now, at present I am in the
position of these same readers, for I hold in
this hand several threads of one of the
strangest cases which ever perplexed a man`s
brain, and yet I lack the one or two which are
needful to complete my theory. But I`ll have
them, Watson, I`ll have them!" His eyes kindled
and a slight flush sprang into his thin cheeks.
For an instant only. When I glanced again his
face had resumed that red-Indian composure which
had made so many regard him as a machine rather
than a man.
"The problem presents features of interest,"
said he. "I may even say exceptional features of
interest. I have already looked into the matter,
and have come, as I think, within sight of my
solution. If you could accompany me in that last
step you might be of considerable service to
me."
"I should be delighted."
"Could you go as far as Aldershot to-morrow?"
"I have no doubt Jackson would take my
practice."
"Very good. I want to start by the 11.10 from
Waterloo."
"That would give me time."
"Then, if you are not too sleepy, I will give
you a sketch of what has happened, and of what
remains to be done."
"I was sleepy before you came. I am quite
wakeful now."
"I will compress the story as far as may be
done without omitting anything vital to the
case. It is conceivable that you may even have
read some account of the matter. It is the
supposed murder of Colonel Barclay, of the Royal
Munsters, at Aldershot, which I am
investigating."
"I have heard nothing of it."
"It has not excited much attention yet,
except locally. The facts are only two days old.
Briefly they are these:
"The Royal Munsters is, as you know, one of
the most famous Irish regiments in the British
army. It did wonders both in the Crimea and the
Mutiny, and has since that time distinguished
itself upon every possible occasion. It was
commanded up to Monday night by James Barclay, a
gallant veteran, who started as a full private,
was raised to commissioned rank for his bravery
at the time of the Mutiny, and so lived to
command the regiment in which he had once
carried a musket.
"Colonel Barclay had married at the time when
he was a sergeant, and his wife, whose maiden
name was Miss Nancy Devoy, was the daughter of a
former color-sergeant in the same corps. There
was, therefore, as can be imagined, some little
social friction when the young couple (for they
were still young) found themselves in their new
surroundings. They appear, however, to have
quickly adapted themselves, and Mrs. Barclay has
always, I understand, been as popular with the
ladies of the regiment as her husband was with
his brother officers. I may add that she was a
woman of great beauty, and that even now, when
she has been married for upwards of thirty
years, she is still of a striking and queenly
appearance.
"Colonel Barclay`s family life appears to
have been a uniformly happy one. Major Murphy,
to whom I owe most of my facts, assures me that
he has never heard of any misunderstanding
between the pair. On the whole, he thinks that
Barclay`s devotion to his wife was greater than
his wife`s to Barclay. He was acutely uneasy if
he were absent from her for a day. She, on the
other hand, though devoted and faithful, was
less obtrusively affectionate. But they were
regarded in the regiment as the very model of a
middle-aged couple. There was absolutely nothing
in their mutual relations to prepare people for
the tragedy which was to follow.
"Colonel Barclay himself seems to have had
some singular traits in his character. He was a
dashing, jovial old solder in his usual mood,
but there were occasions on which he seemed to
show himself capable of considerable violence
and vindictiveness. This side of his nature,
however, appears never to have been turned
towards his wife. Another fact, which had struck
Major Murphy and three out of five of the other
officers with whom I conversed, was the singular
sort of depression which came upon him at times.
As the major expressed it, the smile had often
been struck from his mouth, as if by some
invisible hand, when he has been joining the
gayeties and chaff of the mess-table. For days
on end, when the mood was on him, he has been
sunk in the deepest gloom. This and a certain
tinge of superstition were the only unusual
traits in his character which his brother
officers had observed. The latter peculiarity
took the form of a dislike to being left alone,
especially after dark. This puerile feature in a
nature which was conspicuously manly had often
given rise to comment and conjecture.
"The first battalion of the Royal Munsters
(which is the old 117th) has been stationed at
Aldershot for some years. The married officers
live out of barracks, and the Colonel has during
all this time occupied a villa called Lachine,
about half a mile from the north camp. The house
stands in its own grounds, but the west side of
it is not more than thirty yards from the
high-road. A coachman and two maids form the
staff of servants. These with their master and
mistress were the sole occupants of Lachine, for
the Barclays had no children, nor was it usual
for them to have resident visitors.
"Now for the events at Lachine between nine
and ten on the evening of last Monday."
"Mrs. Barclay was, it appears, a member of
the Roman Catholic Church, and had interested
herself very much in the establishment of the
Guild of St. George, which was formed in
connection with the Watt Street Chapel for the
purpose of supplying the poor with cast-off
clothing. A meeting of the Guild had been held
that evening at eight, and Mrs. Barclay had
hurried over her dinner in order to be present
at it. When leaving the house she was heard by
the coachman to make some commonplace remark to
her husband, and to assure him that she would be
back before very long. She then called for Miss
Morrison, a young lady who lives in the next
villa, and the two went off together to their
meeting. It lasted forty minutes, and at a
quarter-past nine Mrs. Barclay returned home,
having left Miss Morrison at her door as she
passed.
"There is a room which is used as a
morning-room at Lachine. This faces the road and
opens by a large glass folding-door on to the
lawn. The lawn is thirty yards across, and is
only divided from the highway by a low wall with
an iron rail above it. It was into this room
that Mrs. Barclay went upon her return. The
blinds were not down, for the room was seldom
used in the evening, but Mrs. Barclay herself
lit the lamp and then rang the bell, asking Jane
Stewart, the house-maid, to bring her a cup of
tea, which was quite contrary to her usual
habits. The Colonel had been sitting in the
dining-room, but hearing that his wife had
returned he joined her in the morning-room. The
coachman saw him cross the hall and enter it. He
was never seen again alive.
"The tea which had been ordered was brought
up at the end of ten minutes; but the maid, as
she approached the door, was surprised to hear
the voices of her master and mistress in furious
altercation. She knocked without receiving any
answer, and even turned the handle, but only to
find that the door was locked upon the inside.
Naturally enough she ran down to tell the cook,
and the two women with the coachman came up into
the hall and listened to the dispute which was
still raging. They all agreed that only two
voices were to be heard, those of Barclay and of
his wife. Barclay`s remarks were subdued and
abrupt, so that none of them were audible to the
listeners. The lady`s, on the other hand, were
most bitter, and when she raised her voice could
be plainly heard. `You coward!` she repeated
over and over again. `What can be done now? What
can be done now? Give me back my life. I will
never so much as breathe the same air with you
again! You coward! You Coward!` Those were
scraps of her conversation, ending in a sudden
dreadful cry in the man`s voice, with a crash,
and a piercing scream from the woman. Convinced
that some tragedy had occurred, the coachman
rushed to the door and strove to force it, while
scream after scream issued from within. He was
unable, however, to make his way in, and the
maids were too distracted with fear to be of any
assistance to him. A sudden thought struck him,
however, and he ran through the hall door and
round to the lawn upon which the long French
windows open. One side of the window was open,
which I understand was quite usual in the
summer-time, and he passed without difficulty
into the room. His mistress had ceased to scream
and was stretched insensible upon a couch, while
with his feet tilted over the side of an
arm-chair, and his head upon the ground near the
corner of the fender, was lying the unfortunate
soldier stone dead in a pool of his own blood.
"Naturally, the coachman`s first thought, on
finding that he could do nothing for his master,
was to open the door. But here an unexpected and
singular difficulty presented itself. The key
was not in the inner side of the door, nor could
he find it anywhere in the room. He went out
again, therefore, through the window, and having
obtained the help of a policeman and of a
medical man, he returned. The lady, against whom
naturally the strongest suspicion rested, was
removed to her room, still in a state of
insensibility. The Colonel`s body was then
placed upon the sofa, and a careful examination
made of the scene of the tragedy.
"The injury from which the unfortunate
veteran was suffering was found to be a jagged
cut some two inches long at the back part of his
head, which had evidently been caused by a
violent blow from a blunt weapon. Nor was it
difficult to guess what that weapon may have
been. Upon the floor, close to the body, was
lying a singular club of hard carved wood with a
bone handle. The Colonel possessed a varied
collection of weapons brought from the different
countries in which he had fought, and it is
conjectured by the police that his club was
among his trophies. The servants deny having
seen it before, but among the numerous
curiosities in the house it is possible that it
may have been overlooked. Nothing else of
importance was discovered in the room by the
police, save the inexplicable fact that neither
upon Mrs. Barclay`s person nor upon that of the
victim nor in any part of the room was the
missing key to be found. The door had eventually
to be opened by a locksmith from Aldershot.
"That was the state of things, Watson, when
upon the Tuesday morning I, at the request of
Major Murphy, went down to Aldershot to
supplement the efforts of the police. I think
that you will acknowledge that the problem was
already one of interest, but my observations
soon made me realize that it was in truth much
more extraordinary than would at first sight
appear.
"Before examining the room I cross-questioned
the servants, but only succeeded in eliciting
the facts which I have already stated. One other
detail of interest was remembered by Jane
Stewart, the housemaid. You will remember that
on hearing the sound of the quarrel she
descended and returned with the other servants.
On that first occasion, when she was alone, she
says that the voices of her master and mistress
were sunk so low that she could hear hardly
anything, and judged by their tones rather than
their words that they had fallen out. On my
pressing her, however, she remembered that she
heard the word David uttered twice by the lady.
The point is of the utmost importance as guiding
us towards the reason of the sudden quarrel. The
Colonel`s name, you remember, was James.
"There was one thing in the case which had
made the deepest impression both upon the
servants and the police. This was the contortion
of the Colonel`s face. It had set, according to
their account, into the most dreadful expression
of fear and horror which a human countenance is
capable of assuming. More than one person
fainted at the mere sight of him, so terrible
was the effect. It was quite certain that he had
foreseen his fate, and that it had caused him
the utmost horror. This, of course, fitted in
well enough with the police theory, if the
Colonel could have seen his wife making a
murderous attack upon him. Nor was the fact of
the wound being on the back of his head a fatal
objection to this, as he might have turned to
avoid the blow. No information could be got from
the lady herself, who was temporarily insane
from an acute attack of brain-fever.
"From the police I learned that Miss
Morrison, who you remember went out that evening
with Mrs. Barclay, denied having any knowledge
of what it was which had caused the ill-humor in
which her companion had returned.
"Having gathered these facts, Watson, I
smoked several pipes over them, trying to
separate those which were crucial from others
which were merely incidental. There could be no
question that the most distinctive and
suggestive point in the case was the singular
disappearance of the door-key. A most careful
search had failed to discover it in the room.
Therefore it must have been taken from it. But
neither the Colonel nor the Colonel`s wife could
have taken it. That was perfectly clear.
Therefore a third person must have entered the
room. And that third person could only have come
in through the window. It seemed to me that a
careful examination of the room and the lawn
might possibly reveal some traces of this
mysterious individual. You know my methods,
Watson. There was not one of them which I did
not apply to the inquiry. And it ended by my
discovering traces, but very different ones from
those which I had expected. There had been a man
in the room, and he had crossed the lawn coming
from the road. I was able to obtain five very
clear impressions of his foot-marks: one in the
roadway itself, at the point where he had
climbed the low wall, two on the lawn, and two
very faint ones upon the stained boards near the
window where he had entered. He had apparently
rushed across the lawn, for his toe-marks were
much deeper than his heels. But it was not the
man who surprised me. It was his companion."
"His companion!"
Holmes pulled a large sheet of tissue-paper
out of his pocket and carefully unfolded it upon
his knee.
"What do you make of that?" he asked.
The paper was covered with he tracings of the
foot-marks of some small animal. It had five
well-marked foot-pads, an indication of long
nails, and the whole print might be nearly as
large as a dessert-spoon.
"It`s a dog," said I.
"Did you ever hear of a dog running up a
curtain? I found distinct traces that this
creature had done so."
"A monkey, then?"
"But it is not the print of a monkey."
"What can it be, then?"
"Neither dog nor cat nor monkey nor any
creature that we are familiar with. I have tried
to reconstruct it from the measurements. Here
are four prints where the beast has been
standing motionless. You see that it is no less
than fifteen inches from fore-foot to hind. Add
to that the length of neck and head, and you get
a creature not much less than two feet
long--probably more if there is any tail. But
now observe this other measurement. The animal
has been moving, and we have the length of its
stride. In each case it is only about three
inches. You have an indication, you see, of a
long body with very short legs attached to it.
It has not been considerate enough to leave any
of its hair behind it. But its general shape
must be what I have indicated, and it can run up
a curtain, and it is carnivorous."
"How do you deduce that?"
"Because it ran up the curtain. A canary`s
cage was hanging in the window, and its aim
seems to have been to get at the bird."
"Then what was the beast?"
"Ah, if I could give it a name it might go a
long way towards solving the case. On the whole,
it was probably some creature of the weasel and
stoat tribe--and yet it is larger than any of
these that I have seen."
"But what had it to do with the crime?"
"That, also, is still obscure. But we have
learned a good deal, you perceive. We know that
a man stood in the road looking at the quarrel
between the Barclays--the blinds were up and the
room lighted. We know, also, that he ran across
the lawn, entered the room, accompanied by a
strange animal, and that he either struck the
Colonel or, as is equally possible, that the
Colonel fell down from sheer fright at the sight
of him, and cut his head on the corner of the
fender. Finally, we have the curious fact that
the intruder carried away the key with him when
he left."
"Your discoveries seem to have left the
business more obscure that it was before," said
I.
"Quite so. They undoubtedly showed that the
affair was much deeper than was at first
conjectured. I thought the matter over, and I
came to the conclusion that I must approach the
case from another aspect. But really, Watson, I
am keeping you up, and I might just as well tell
you all this on our way to Aldershot to-morrow."
"Thank you, you have gone rather too far to
stop."
"It is quite certain that when Mrs. Barclay
left the house at half-past seven she was on
good terms with her husband. She was never, as I
think I have said, ostentatiously affectionate,
but she was heard by the coachman chatting with
the Colonel in a friendly fashion. Now, it was
equally certain that, immediately on her return,
she had gone to the room in which she was least
likely to see her husband, had flown to tea as
an agitated woman will, and finally, on his
coming in to her, had broken into violent
recriminations. Therefore something had occurred
between seven-thirty and nine o`clock which had
completely altered her feelings towards him. But
Miss Morrison had been with her during the whole
of that hour and a half. It was absolutely
certain, therefore, in spite of her denial, that
she must know something of the matter.
"My first conjecture was, that possibly there
had been some passages between this young lady
and the old soldier, which the former had now
confessed to the wife. That would account for
the angry return, and also for the girl`s denial
that anything had occurred. Nor would it be
entirely incompatible with most of the words
overhead. But there was the reference to David,
and there was the known affection of the Colonel
for his wife, to weigh against it, to say
nothing of the tragic intrusion of this other
man, which might, of course, be entirely
disconnected with what had gone before. It was
not easy to pick one`s steps, but, on the whole,
I was inclined to dismiss the idea that there
had been anything between the Colonel and Miss
Morrison, but more than ever convinced that the
young lady held the clue as to what it was which
had turned Mrs. Barclay to hatred of her
husband. I took the obvious course, therefore,
of calling upon Miss M., of explaining to her
that I was perfectly certain that she held the
facts in her possession, and of assuring her
that her friend, Mrs. Barclay, might find
herself in the dock upon a capital charge unless
the matter were cleared up.
"Miss Morrison is a little ethereal slip of a
girl, with timid eyes and blond hair, but I
found her by no means wanting in shrewdness and
common-sense. She sat thinking for some time
after I had spoken, and then, turning to me with
a brisk air of resolution, she broke into a
remarkable statement which I will condense for
your benefit.
"`I promised my friend that I would say
nothing of the matter, and a promise is a
promise,; said she; `but if I can really help
her when so serious a charge is laid against
her, and when her own mouth, poor darling, is
closed by illness, then I think I am absolved
from my promise. I will tell you exactly what
happened upon Monday evening.
"`We were returning from the Watt Street
Mission about a quarter to nine o`clock. On our
way we had to pass through Hudson Street, which
is a very quiet thoroughfare. There is only one
lamp in it, upon the left-hand side, and as we
approached this lamp I saw a man coming towards
us with is back very bent, and something like a
box slung over one of his shoulders. He appeared
to be deformed, for he carried his head low and
walked with his knees bent. We were passing him
when he raised his face to look at us in the
circle of light thrown by the lamp, and as he
did so he stopped and screamed out in a dreadful
voice, "My God, it`s Nancy!" Mrs. Barclay turned
as white as death, and would have fallen down
had the dreadful-looking creature not caught
hold of her. I was going to call for the police,
but she, to my surprise, spoke quite civilly to
the fellow.
"`"I thought you had been dead this thirty
years, Henry," said she, in a shaking voice.
"`"So I have," said he, and it was awful to
hear the tones that he said it in. He had a very
dark, fearsome face, and a gleam in his eyes
that comes back to me in my dreams. His hair and
whiskers were shot with gray, and his face was
all crinkled and puckered like a withered apple.
"`"Just walk on a little way, dear," said
Mrs. Barclay; "I want to have a word with this
man. There is nothing to be afraid of." She
tried to speak boldly, but she was still deadly
pale and could hardly get her words out for the
trembling of her lips.
"`I did as she asked me, and they talked
together for a few minutes. Then she came down
the street with her eyes blazing, and I saw the
crippled wretch standing by the lamp-post and
shaking his clenched fists in the air as if he
were made with rage. She never said a word until
we were at the door here, when she took me by
the hand and begged me to tell no one what had
happened.
"`"It`s an old acquaintance of mine who has
come down in the world," said she. When I
promised her I would say nothing she kissed me,
and I have never seen her since. I have told you
now the whole truth, and if I withheld it from
the police it is because I did not realize then
the danger in which my dear friend stood. I know
that it can only be to her advantage that
everything should be known.`
"There was her statement, Watson, and to me,
as you can imagine, it was like a light on a
dark night. Everything which had been
disconnected before began at once to assume its
true place, and I had a shadowy presentiment of
the whole sequence of events. My next step
obviously was to find the man who had produced
such a remarkable impression upon Mrs. Barclay.
If he were still in Aldershot it should not be a
very difficult matter. There are not such a very
great number of civilians, and a deformed man
was sure to have attracted attention. I spent a
day in the search, and by evening--this very
evening, Watson--I had run him down. The man`s
name is Henry Wood, and he lives in lodgings in
this same street in which the ladies met him. He
has only been five days in the place. In the
character of a registration-agent I had a most
interesting gossip with his landlady. The man is
by trade a conjurer and performer, going round
the canteens after nightfall, and giving a
little entertainment at each. He carries some
creature about with him in that box; about which
the landlady seemed to be in considerable
trepidation, for she had never seen an animal
like it. He uses it in some of his tricks
according to her account. So much the woman was
able to tell me, and also that it was a wonder
the man lived, seeing how twisted he was, and
that he spoke in a strange tongue sometimes, and
that for the last two nights she had heard him
groaning and weeping in his bedroom. He was all
right, as far as money went, but in his deposit
he had given her what looked like a bad florin.
She showed it to me, Watson, and it was an
Indian rupee.
"So now, my dear fellow, you see exactly how
we stand and why it is I want you. It is
perfectly plain that after the ladies parted
from this man he followed them at a distance,
that he saw the quarrel between husband and wife
through the window, that he rushed in, and that
the creature which he carried in his box got
loose. That is all very certain. But he is the
only person in this world who can tell us
exactly what happened in that room."
"And you intend to ask him?"
"Most certainly--but in the presence of a
witness."
"And I am the witness?"
"If you will be so good. If he can clear the
matter up, well and good. If he refuses, we have
no alternative but to apply for a warrant."
"But how do you know he`ll be there when we
return?"
"You may be sure that I took some
precautions. I have one of my Baker Street boys
mounting guard over him who would stick to him
like a burr, go where he might. We shall find
him in Hudson Street to-morrow, Watson, and
meanwhile I should be the criminal myself if I
kept you out of bed any longer."
It was midday when we found ourselves at the
scene of the tragedy, and, under my companion`s
guidance, we made our way at once to Hudson
Street. In spite of his capacity for concealing
his emotions, I could easily see that Holmes was
in a state of suppressed excitement, while I was
myself tingling with that half-sporting,
half-intellectual pleasure which I invariably
experienced when I associated myself with him in
his investigations.
"This is the street," said he, as we turned
into a short thoroughfare lined with plain
two-storied brick houses. "Ah, here is Simpson
to report."
"He`s in all right, Mr. Holmes," cried a
small street Arab, running up to us.
"Good, Simpson!" said Holmes, patting him on
the head. "Come along, Watson. This is the
house." He sent in his card with a message that
he had come on important business, and a moment
later we were face to face with the man whom we
had come to see. In spite of the warm weather he
was crouching over a fire, and the little room
was like an oven. The man sat all twisted and
huddled in his chair in a way which gave an
indescribably impression of deformity; but the
face which he turned towards us, though worn and
swarthy, must at some time have been remarkable
for its beauty. He looked suspiciously at us now
out of yellow-shot, bilious eyes, and, without
speaking or rising, he waved towards two chairs.
"Mr. Henry Wood, late of India, I believe,"
said Holmes, affably. "I`ve come over this
little matter of Colonel Barclay`s death."
"What should I know about that?"
"That`s what I want to ascertain. You know, I
suppose, that unless the matter is cleared up,
Mrs. Barclay, who is an old friend of yours,
will in all probability be tried for murder."
The man gave a violent start.
"I don`t know who you are," he cried, "nor
how you come to know what you do know, but will
you swear that this is true that you tell me?"
"Why, they are only waiting for her to come
to her senses to arrest her."
"My God! Are you in the police yourself?"
"No."
"What business is it of yours, then?"
"It`s every man`s business to see justice
done."
"You can take my word that she is innocent."
"Then you are guilty."
"No, I am not."
"Who killed Colonel James Barclay, then?"
"It was a just providence that killed him.
But, mind you this, that if I had knocked his
brains out, as it was in my heart to do, he
would have had no more than his due from my
hands. If his own guilty conscience had not
struck him down it is likely enough that I might
have had his blood upon my soul. You want me to
tell the story. Well, I don`t know why I
shouldn`t, for there`s no cause for me to be
ashamed of it.
"It was in this way, sir. You see me now with
my back like a camel and by ribs all awry, but
there was a time when Corporal Henry Wood was
the smartest man in the 117th foot. We were in
India then, in cantonments, at a place we`ll
call Bhurtee. Barclay, who died the other day,
was sergeant in the same company as myself, and
the belle of the regiment, ay, and the finest
girl that ever had the breath of life between
her lips, was Nancy Devoy, the daughter of the
color-sergeant. There were two men that loved
her, and one that she loved, and you`ll smile
when you look at this poor thing huddled before
the fire, and hear me say that it was for my
good looks that she loved me.
"Well, though I had her heart, her father was
set upon her marrying Barclay. I was a
harum-scarum, reckless lad, and he had had an
education, and was already marked for the
sword-belt. But the girl held true to me, and it
seemed that I would have had her when the Mutiny
broke out, and all hell was loose in the
country.
"We were shut up in Bhurtee, the regiment of
us with half a battery of artillery, a company
of Sikhs, and a lot of civilians and women-folk.
There were ten thousand rebels round us, and
they were as keen as a set of terriers round a
rat-cage. About the second week of it our water
gave out, and it was a question whether we could
communicate with General Neill`s column, which
was moving up country. It was our only chance,
for we could not hope to fight our way out with
all the women and children, so I volunteered to
go out and to warn General Neill of our danger.
My offer was accepted, and I talked it over with
Sergeant Barclay, who was supposed to know the
ground better than any other man, and who drew
up a route by which I might get through the
rebel lines. At ten o`clock the same night I
started off upon my journey. There were a
thousand lives to save, but it was of only one
that I was thinking when I dropped over the wall
that night.
"My way ran down a dried-up watercourse,
which we hoped would screen me from the enemy`s
sentries; but as I crept round the corner of it
I walked right into six of them, who were
crouching down in the dark waiting for me. In an
instant I was stunned with a blow and bound hand
and foot. But the real blow was to my heart and
not to my head, for as I came to and listened to
as much as I could understand of their talk, I
heard enough to tell me that my comrade, the
very man who had arranged the way that I was to
take, had betrayed me by means of a native
servant into the hands of the enemy.
"Well, there`s no need for me to dwell on
that part of it. You know now what James Barclay
was capable of. Bhurtee was relieved by Neill
next day, but the rebels took me away with them
in their retreat, and it was many a long year
before ever I saw a white face again. I was
tortured and tried to get away, and was captured
and tortured again. You can see for yourselves
the state in which I was left. Some of them that
fled into Nepaul took me with them, and then
afterwards I was up past Darjeeling. The
hill-folk up there murdered the rebels who had
me, and I became their slave for a time until I
escaped; but instead of going south I had to go
north, until I found myself among the Afghans.
There I wandered about for many a year, and at
last came back to the Punjaub, where I lived
mostly among the natives and picked up a living
by the conjuring tricks that I had learned. What
use was it for me, a wretched cripple, to go
back to England or to make myself known to my
old comrades? Even my wish for revenge would not
make me do that. I had rather that Nancy and my
old pals should think of Harry Wood as having
died with a straight back, than see him living
and crawling with a stick like a chimpanzee.
They never doubted that I was dead, and I meant
that they never should. I heard that Barclay had
married Nancy, and that he was rising rapidly in
the regiment, but even that did not make me
speak.
"But when one gets old one has a longing for
home. For years I`ve been dreaming of the bright
green fields and the hedges of England. At last
I determined to see them before I died. I saved
enough to bring me across, and then I came here
where the soldiers are, for I know their ways
and how to amuse them and so earn enough to keep
me."
"Your narrative is most interesting," said
Sherlock Holmes. "I have already heard of your
meeting with Mrs. Barclay, and your mutual
recognition. You then, as I understand, followed
her home and saw through the window an
altercation between her husband and her, in
which she doubtless cast his conduct to you in
his teeth. Your own feelings overcame you, and
you ran across the lawn and broke in upon them."
"I did, sir, and at the sight of me he looked
as I have never seen a man look before, and over
he went with his head on the fender. But he was
dead before he fell. I read death on his face as
plain as I can read that text over the fire. The
bare sight of me was like a bullet through his
guilty heart."
"And then?"
"Then Nancy fainted, and I caught up the key
of the door from her hand, intending to unlock
it and get help. But as I was doing it it seemed
to me better to leave it alone and get away, for
the thing might look black against me, and any
way my secret would be out if I were taken. In
my haste I thrust the key into my pocket, and
dropped my stick while I was chasing Teddy, who
had run up the curtain. When I got him into his
box, from which he had slipped, I was off as
fast as I could run."
"Who`s Teddy?" asked Holmes.
The man leaned over and pulled up the front
of a kind of hutch in the corner. In an instant
out there slipped a beautiful reddish-brown
creature, thin and lithe, with the legs of a
stoat, a long, thin nose, and a pair of the
finest red eyes that ever I saw in an animal`s
head.
"It`s a mongoose," I cried.
"Well, some call them that, and some call
them ichneumon," said the man. "Snake-catcher is
what I call them, and Teddy is amazing quick on
cobras. I have one here without the fangs, and
Teddy catches it every night to please the folk
in the canteen.
"Any other point, sir?"
"Well, we may have to apply to you again if
Mrs. Barclay should prove to be in serious
trouble."
"In that case, of course, I`d come forward."
"But if not, there is no object in raking up
this scandal against a dead man, foully as he
has acted. You have at least the satisfaction of
knowing that for thirty years of his life his
conscience bitterly reproached him for this
wicked deed. Ah, there goes Major Murphy on the
other side of the street. Good-by, Wood. I want
to learn if anything has happened since
yesterday."
We were in time to overtake the major before
he reached the corner.
"Ah, Holmes," he said: "I suppose you have
heard that all this fuss has come to nothing?"
"What then?"
"The inquest is just over. The medical
evidence showed conclusively that death was due
to apoplexy. You see it was quite a simple case
after all."
"Oh, remarkably superficial," said Holmes,
smiling. "Come, Watson, I don`t think we shall
be wanted in Aldershot any more."
"There`s one thing," said I, as we walked
down to the station. "If the husband`s name was
James, and the other was Henry, what was this
talk about David?"
"That one word, my dear Watson, should have
told me the whole story had I been the ideal
reasoner which you are so fond of depicting. It
was evidently a term of reproach."
"Of reproach?"
"Yes; David strayed a little occasionally,
you know, and on one occasion in the same
direction as Sergeant James Barclay. You
remember the small affair of Uriah and
Bathsheba? My biblical knowledge is a trifle
rusty, I fear, but you will find the story in
the first or second of Samuel."
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Adventure VIII
The Resident Patient
Glancing over the somewhat incoherent series of Memoirs with which I
have endeavored to illustrate a few of the
mental peculiarities of my friend Mr. Sherlock
Holmes, I have been struck by the difficulty
which I have experienced in picking out examples
which shall in every way answer my purpose. For
in those cases in which Holmes has performed
some tour de force of analytical reasoning, and
has demonstrated the value of his peculiar
methods of investigation, the facts themselves
have often been so slight or so commonplace that
I could not feel justified in laying them before
the public. On the other hand, it has frequently
happened that he has been concerned in some
research where the facts have been of the most
remarkable and dramatic character, but where the
share which he has himself taken in determining
their causes has been less pronounced than I, as
his biographer, could wish. The small matter
which I have chronicled under the heading of "A
Study in Scarlet," and that other later one
connected with the loss of the Gloria Scott, may
serve as examples of this Scylla and Charybdis
which are forever threatening the historian. It
may be that in the business of which I am now
about to write the part which my friend played
is not sufficiently accentuated; and yet the
whole train of circumstances is so remarkable
that I cannot bring myself to omit it entirely
from this series.
It had been a close, rainy day in October.
Our blinds were half-drawn, and Holmes lay
curled upon the sofa, reading and re-reading a
letter which he had received by the morning
post. For myself, my term of service in India
had trained me to stand heat better than cold,
and a thermometer of 90 was no hardship. But the
paper was uninteresting. Parliament had risen.
Everybody was out of town, and I yearned for the
glades of the New Forest or the shingle of
Southsea. A depleted bank account had caused me
to postpone my holiday, and as to my companion,
neither the country nor the sea presented the
slightest attraction to him. He loved to lie in
the very centre of five millions of people, with
his filaments stretching out and running through
them, responsive to every little rumor or
suspicion of unsolved crime. Appreciation of
Nature found no place among his many gifts, and
his only change was when he turned his mind from
the evil-doer of the town to track down his
brother of the country.
Finding that Holmes was too absorbed for
conversation, I had tossed aside the barren
paper, and leaning back in my chair, I fell into
a brown study. Suddenly my companion`s voice
broke in upon my thoughts.
"You are right, Watson," said he. "It does
seem a very preposterous way of settling a
dispute."
"Most preposterous!" I exclaimed, and then,
suddenly realizing how he had echoed the inmost
thought of my soul, I sat up in my chair and
stared at him in blank amazement.
"What is this, Holmes?" I cried. "This is
beyond anything which I could have imagined."
He laughed heartily at my perplexity.
"You remember," said he, "that some little
time ago, when I read you the passage in one of
Poe`s sketches, in which a close reasoner
follows the unspoken thought of his companion,
you were inclined to treat the matter as a mere
tour de force of the author. On my remarking
that I was constantly in the habit of doing the
same thing you expressed incredulity."
"Oh, no!"
"Perhaps not with your tongue, my dear
Watson, but certainly with your eyebrows. So
when I saw you throw down your paper and enter
upon a train of thought, I was very happy to
have the opportunity of reading it off, and
eventually of breaking into it, as a proof that
I had been in rapport with you."
But I was still far from satisfied. "In the
example which you read to me," said I, "the
reasoner drew his conclusions from the actions
of the man whom he observed. If I remember
right, he stumbled over a heap of stones, looked
up at the stars, and so on. But I have been
seated quietly in my chair, and what clues can I
have given you?"
"You do yourself an injustice. The features
are given to man as the means by which he shall
express his emotions, and yours are faithful
servants."
"Do you mean to say that you read my train of
thoughts from my features?"
"Your features, and especially your eyes.
Perhaps you cannot yourself recall how your
reverie commenced?"
"No, I cannot."
"Then I will tell you. After throwing down
your paper, which was the action which drew my
attention to you, you sat for half a minute with
a vacant expression. Then your eyes fixed
themselves upon your newly-framed picture of
General Gordon, and I saw by the alteration in
your face that a train of thought had been
started. But it did not lead very far. Your eyes
turned across to the unframed portrait of Henry
Ward Beecher which stands upon the top of your
books. You then glanced up at the wall, and of
course your meaning was obvious. You were
thinking that if the portrait were framed it
would just cover that bare space and correspond
with Gordon`s picture over there."
"You have followed me wonderfully!" I
exclaimed.
"So far I could hardly have gone astray. But
now your thoughts went back to Beecher, and you
looked hard across as if you were studying the
character in his features. Then your eyes ceased
to pucker, but you continued to look across, and
your face was thoughtful. You were recalling the
incidents of Beecher`s career. I was well aware
that you could not do this without thinking of
the mission which he undertook on behalf of the
North at the time of the Civil War, for I
remember you expressing your passionate
indignation at the way in which he was received
by the more turbulent of our people. You felt so
strongly about it that I knew you could not
think of Beecher without thinking of that also.
When a moment later I saw your eyes wander away
from the picture, I suspected that your mind had
now turned to the Civil War, and when I observed
that your lips set, your eyes sparkled, and your
hands clinched, I was positive that you were
indeed thinking of the gallantry which was shown
by both sides in that desperate struggle. But
then, again, your face grew sadder; you shook
your head. You were dwelling upon the sadness
and horror and useless waste of life. Your hand
stole towards your own old wound, and a smile
quivered on your lips, which showed me that the
ridiculous side of this method of settling
international questions had forced itself upon
your mind. At this point I agreed with you that
it was preposterous, and was glad to find that
all my deductions had been correct."
"Absolutely!" said I. "And now that you have
explained it, I confess that I am as amazed as
before."
"It was very superficial, my dear Watson, I
assure you. I should not have intruded it upon
your attention had you not shown some
incredulity the other day. But the evening has
brought a breeze with it. What do you say to a
ramble through London?"
I was weary of our little sitting-room and
gladly acquiesced. For three hours we strolled
about together, watching the ever-changing
kaleidoscope of life as it ebbs and flows
through Fleet Street and the Strand. His
characteristic talk, with its keen observance of
detail and subtle power of inference held me
amused and enthralled. It was ten o`clock before
we reached Baker Street again. A brougham was
waiting at our door.
"Hum! A doctor`s--general practitioner, I
perceive," said Holmes. "Not been long in
practice, but has had a good deal to do. Come to
consult us, I fancy! Lucky we came back!"
I was sufficiently conversant with Holmes`s
methods to be able to follow his reasoning, and
to see that the nature and state of the various
medical instruments in the wicker basket which
hung in the lamplight inside the brougham had
given him the data for his swift deduction. The
light in our window above showed that this late
visit was indeed intended for us. With some
curiosity as to what could have sent a brother
medico to us at such an hour, I followed Holmes
into our sanctum.
A pale, taper-faced man with sandy whiskers
rose up from a chair by the fire as we entered.
His age may not have been more than three or
four and thirty, but his haggard expression and
unhealthy hue told of a life which has sapped
his strength and robbed him of his youth. His
manner was nervous and shy, like that of a
sensitive gentleman, and the thin white hand
which he laid on the mantelpiece as he rose was
that of an artist rather than of a surgeon. His
dress was quiet and sombre--a black frock-coat,
dark trousers, and a touch of color about his
necktie.
"Good-evening, doctor," said Holmes,
cheerily. "I am glad to see that you have only
been waiting a very few minutes."
"You spoke to my coachman, then?"
"No, it was the candle on the side-table that
told me. Pray resume your seat and let me know
how I can serve you."
"My name is Doctor Percy Trevelyan," said our
visitor, "and I live at 403 Brook Street."
"Are you not the author of a monograph upon
obscure nervous lesions?" I asked.
His pale cheeks flushed with pleasure at
hearing that his work was known to me.
"I so seldom hear of the work that I thought
it was quite dead," said he. "My publishers gave
me a most discouraging account of its sale. You
are yourself, I presume, a medical man?"
"A retired army surgeon."
"My own hobby has always been nervous
disease. I should wish to make it an absolute
specialty, but, of course, a man must take what
he can get at first. This, however, is beside
the question, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and I quite
appreciate how valuable your time is. The fact
is that a very singular train of events has
occurred recently at my house in Brook Street,
and to-night they came to such a head that I
felt it was quite impossible for me to wait
another hour before asking for your advice and
assistance."
Sherlock Holmes sat down and lit his pipe.
"You are very welcome to both," said he. "Pray
let me have a detailed account of what the
circumstances are which have disturbed you."
"One or two of them are so trivial," said Dr.
Trevelyan, "that really I am almost ashamed to
mention them. But the matter is so inexplicable,
and the recent turn which it has taken is so
elaborate, that I shall lay it all before you,
and you shall judge what is essential and what
is not.
"I am compelled, to begin with, to say
something of my own college career. I am a
London University man, you know, and I am sure
that your will not think that I am unduly
singing my own praises if I say that my student
career was considered by my professors to be a
very promising one. After I had graduated I
continued to devote myself to research,
occupying a minor position in King`s College
Hospital, and I was fortunate enough to excite
considerable interest by my research into the
pathology of catalepsy, and finally to win the
Bruce Pinkerton prize and medal by the monograph
on nervous lesions to which your friend has just
alluded. I should not go too far if I were to
say that there was a general impression at that
time that a distinguished career lay before me.
"But the one great stumbling-block lay in my
want of capital. As you will readily understand,
a specialist who aims high is compelled to start
in one of a dozen streets in the Cavendish
Square quarter, all of which entail enormous
rents and furnishing expenses. Besides this
preliminary outlay, he must be prepared to keep
himself for some years, and to hire a
presentable carriage and horse. To do this was
quite beyond my power, and I could only hope
that by economy I might in ten years` time save
enough to enable me to put up my plate.
Suddenly, however, an unexpected incident opened
up quite a new prospect to me.
"This was a visit from a gentleman of the
name of Blessington, who was a complete stranger
to me. He came up to my room one morning, and
plunged into business in an instant.
"`You are the same Percy Trevelyan who has
had so distinguished a career and own a great
prize lately?` said he.
"I bowed.
"`Answer me frankly,` he continued, `for you
will find it to your interest to do so. You have
all the cleverness which makes a successful man.
Have you the tact?`
"I could not help smiling at the abruptness
of the question.
"`I trust that I have my share,` I said.
"`Any bad habits? Not drawn towards drink,
eh?`
"`Really, sir!` I cried.
"`Quite right! That`s all right! But I was
bound to ask. With all these qualities, why are
you not in practice?`
"I shrugged my shoulders.
"`Come, come!` said he, in his bustling way.
`It`s the old story. More in your brains than in
your pocket, eh? What would you say if I were to
start you in Brook Street?`
"I stared at him in astonishment.
"`Oh, it`s for my sake, not for yours,` he
cried. `I`ll be perfectly frank with you, and if
it suits you it will suit me very well. I have a
few thousands to invest, d`ye see, and I think
I`ll sink them in you.`
"`But why?` I gasped.
"`Well, it`s just like any other speculation,
and safer than most.`
"`What am I to do , then?`
"`I`ll tell you. I`ll take the house, furnish
it, pay the maids, and run the whole place. All
you have to do is just to wear out your chair in
the consulting-room. I`ll let you have
pocket-money and everything. Then you hand over
to me three quarters of what you earn, and you
keep the other quarter for yourself.`
"This was the strange proposal, Mr. Holmes,
with which the man Blessington approached me. I
won`t weary you with the account of how we
bargained and negotiated. It ended in my moving
into the house next Lady-day, and starting in
practice on very much the same conditions as he
had suggested. He came himself to live with me
in the character of a resident patient. His
heart was weak, it appears, and he needed
constant medical supervision. He turned the two
best rooms of the first floor into a
sitting-room and bedroom for himself. He was a
man of singular habits, shunning company and
very seldom going out. His life was irregular,
but in one respect he was regularity itself.
Every evening, at the same hour, he walked into
the consulting-room, examined the books, put
down five and three-pence for every guinea that
I had earned, and carried the rest off to the
strong-box in his own room.
"I may say with confidence that he never had
occasion to regret his speculation. From the
first it was a success. A few good cases and the
reputation which I had won in the hospital
brought me rapidly to the front, and during the
last few years I have made him a rich man.
"So much, Mr. Holmes, for my past history and
my relations with Mr. Blessington. It only
remains for me now to tell you what has occurred
to bring me her to-night.
"Some weeks ago Mr. Blessington came down to
me in, as it seemed to me, a state of
considerable agitation. He spoke of some
burglary which, he said, had been committed in
the West End, and he appeared, I remember, to be
quite unnecessarily excited about it, declaring
that a day should not pass before we should add
stronger bolts to our windows and doors. For a
week he continued to be in a peculiar state of
restlessness, peering continually out of the
windows, and ceasing to take the short walk
which had usually been the prelude to his
dinner. From his manner it struck me that he was
in mortal dread of something or somebody, but
when I questioned him upon the point he became
so offensive that I was compelled to drop the
subject. Gradually, as time passed, his fears
appeared to die away, and he had renewed his
former habits, when a fresh event reduced him to
the pitiable state of prostration in which he
now lies.
"What happened was this. Two days ago I
received the letter which I now read to you.
Neither address nor date is attached to it.
"`A Russian nobleman who is now resident in
England,` it runs, `would be glad to avail
himself of the professional assistance of Dr.
Percy Trevelyan. He has been for some years a
victim to cataleptic attacks, on which, as is
well known, Dr. Trevelyan is an authority. He
proposes to call at about quarter past six
to-morrow evening, if Dr. Trevelyan will make it
convenient to be at home.`
"This letter interest me deeply, because the
chief difficulty in the study of catalepsy is
the rareness of the disease. You may believe,
than, that I was in my consulting-room when, at
the appointed hour, the page showed in the
patient.
He was an elderly man, thin, demure, and
common-place--by no means the conception one
forms of a Russian nobleman. I was much more
struck by the appearance of his companion. This
was a tall young man, surprisingly handsome,
with a dark, fierce face, and the limbs and
chest of a Hercules. He had his hand under the
other`s arm as they entered, and helped him to a
chair with a tenderness which one would hardly
have expected from his appearance.
"`You will excuse my coming in, doctor,` said
he to me, speaking English with a slight lisp.
`This is my father, and his health is a matter
of the most overwhelming importance to me.`
"I was touched by this filial anxiety. `You
would, perhaps, care to remain during the
consultation?` said I.
"`Not for the world,` he cried with a gesture
of horror. `It is more painful to me than I can
express. If I were to see my father in one of
these dreadful seizures I am convinced that I
should never survive it. My own nervous system
is an exceptionally sensitive one. With your
permission, I will remain in the waiting-room
while you go into my father`s case.`
"To this, of course, I assented, and the
young man withdrew. The patient and I then
plunged into a discussion of his case, of which
I took exhaustive notes. He was not remarkable
for intelligence, and his answers were
frequently obscure, which I attributed to his
limited acquaintance with our language.
Suddenly, however, as I sat writing, he ceased
to give any answer at all to my inquiries, and
on my turning towards him I was shocked to see
that he was sitting bolt upright in his chair,
staring at me with a perfectly blank and rigid
face. He was again in the grip of his mysterious
malady.
"My first feeling, as I have just said, was
one of pity and horror. My second, I fear, was
rather one of professional satisfaction. I made
notes of my patient`s pulse and temperature,
tested the rigidity of his muscles, and examined
his reflexes. There was nothing markedly
abnormal in any of these conditions, which
harmonized with my former experiences. I had
obtained good results in such cases by the
inhalation of nitrite of amyl, and the present
seemed an admirable opportunity of testing its
virtues. The bottle was downstairs in my
laboratory, so leaving my patient seated in his
chair, I ran down to get it. There was some
little delay in finding it--five minutes, let us
say--and then I returned. Imagine my amazement
to find the room empty and the patient gone.
"Of course, my first act was to run into the
waiting-room. The son had gone also. The hall
door had been closed, but not shut. My page who
admits patients is a new boy and by no means
quick. He waits downstairs, and runs up to show
patients out when I ring the consulting-room
bell. He had heard nothing, and the affair
remained a complete mystery. Mr. Blessington
came in from his walk shortly afterwards, but I
did not say anything to him upon the subject,
for, to tell the truth, I have got in the way of
late of holding as little communication with him
as possible.
"Well, I never thought that I should see
anything more of the Russian and his son, so you
can imagine my amazement when, at the very same
hour this evening, they both came marching into
my consulting-room, just as they had done
before.
"`I feel that I owe you a great many
apologies for my abrupt departure yesterday,
doctor,` said my patient.
"`I confess that I was very much surprised at
it,` said I.
"`Well, the fact is,` he remarked, `that when
I recover from these attacks my mind is always
very clouded as to all that has gone before. I
woke up in a strange room, as it seemed to me,
and made my way out into the street in a sort of
dazed way when you were absent.`
"`And I,` said the son, `seeing my father
pass the door of the waiting-room, naturally
thought that the consultation had come to an
end. It was not until we had reached home that I
began to realize the true state of affairs.`
"`Well,` said I, laughing, `there is no harm
done except that you puzzled me terribly; so if
you, sir, would kindly step into the
waiting-room I shall be happy to continue our
consultation which was brought to so abrupt an
ending.`
"`For half an hour or so I discussed that old
gentleman`s symptoms with him, and then, having
prescribed for him, I saw him go off upon the
arm of his son.
"I have told you that Mr. Blessington
generally chose this hour of the day for his
exercise. He came in shortly afterwards and
passed upstairs. An instant later I heard him
running down, and he burst into my
consulting-room like a man who is mad with
panic.
"`Who has been in my room?` he cried.
"`No one,` said I.
"`It`s a lie! He yelled. `Come up and look!`
"I passed over the grossness of his language,
as he seemed half out of his mind with fear.
When I went upstairs with him he pointed to
several footprints upon the light carpet.
"`D`you mean to say those are mine?` he
cried.
"They were certainly very much larger than
any which he could have made, and were evidently
quite fresh. It rained hard this afternoon, as
you know, and my patients were the only people
who called. It must have been the case, then,
that the man in the waiting-room had, for some
unknown reason, while I was busy with the other,
ascended to the room of my resident patient.
Nothing has been touched or taken, but there
were the footprints to prove that the intrusion
was an undoubted fact.
"Mr. Blessington seemed more excited over the
matter than I should have thought possible,
though of course it was enough to disturb
anybody`s peace of mind. He actually sat crying
in an arm-chair, and I could hardly get him to
speak coherently. It was his suggestion that I
should come round to you, and of course I at
once saw the propriety of it, for certainly the
incident is a very singular one, though he
appears to completely overtake its importance.
If you would only come back with me in my
brougham, you would at least be able to soothe
him, though I can hardly hope that you will be
able to explain this remarkable occurrence."
Sherlock Holmes had listened to this long
narrative with an intentness which showed me
that his interest was keenly aroused. His face
was as impassive as ever, but his lids had
drooped more heavily over his eyes, and his
smoke had curled up more thickly from his pipe
to emphasize each curious episode in the
doctor`s tale. As our visitor concluded, Holmes
sprang up without a word, handed me my hat,
picked his own from the table, and followed Dr.
Trevelyan to the door. Within a quarter of an
hour we had been dropped at the door of the
physician`s residence in Brook Street, one of
those sombre, flat-faced houses which one
associates with a West-End practice. A small
page admitted us, and we began at once to ascend
the broad, well-carpeted stair.
But a singular interruption brought us to a
standstill. The light at the top was suddenly
whisked out, and from the darkness came a reedy,
quivering voice.
"I have a pistol," it cried. "I give you my
word that I`ll fire if you come any nearer."
"This really grows outrageous, Mr.
Blessington," cried Dr. Trevelyan.
"Oh, then it is you, doctor," said the voice,
with a great heave of relief. "But those other
gentlemen, are they what they pretend to be?"
We were conscious of a long scrutiny out of
the darkness.
"Yes, yes, it`s all right," said the voice at
last. "You can come up, and I am sorry if my
precautions have annoyed you."
He relit the stair gas as he spoke, and we
saw before us a singular-looking man, whose
appearance, as well as his voice, testified to
his jangled nerves. He was very fat, but had
apparently at some time been much fatter, so
that the skin hung about his face in loose
pouches, like the cheeks of a blood-hound. He
was of a sickly color, and his thin, sandy hair
seemed to bristle up with the intensity of his
emotion. In his hand he held a pistol, but he
thrust it into his pocket as we advanced.
"Good-evening, Mr. Holmes," said he. "I am
sure I am very much obliged to you for coming
round. No one ever needed your advice more than
I do. I suppose that Dr. Trevelyan has told you
of this most unwarrantable intrusion into my
rooms."
"Quite so," said Holmes. "Who are these two
men Mr. Blessington, and why do they wish to
molest you?"
"Well, well," said the resident patient, in a
nervous fashion, "of course it is hard to say
that. You can hardly expect me to answer that,
Mr. Holmes."
"Do you mean that you don`t know?"
"Come in here, if you please. Just have the
kindness to step in here."
He led the way into his bedroom, which was
large and comfortably furnished.
"You see that," said he, pointing to a big
black box at the end of his bed. "I have never
been a very rich man, Mr. Holmes--never made but
one investment in my life, as Dr. Trevelyan
would tell you. But I don`t believe in bankers.
I would never trust a banker, Mr. Holmes.
Between ourselves, what little I have is in that
box, so you can understand what it means to me
when unknown people force themselves into my
rooms."
Holmes looked at Blessington in his
questioning way and shook his head.
"I cannot possibly advise you if you try to
deceive me," said he.
"But I have told you everything."
Holmes turned on his heel with a gesture of
disgust. "Good-night, Dr. Trevelyan," said he.
"And no advice for me?" cried Blessington, in
a breaking voice.
"My advice to your, sir, is to speak the
truth."
A minute later we were in the street and
walking for home. We had crossed Oxford Street
and were half way down Harley Street before I
could get a word from my companion.
"Sorry to bring you out on such a fool`s
errand, Watson," he said at last. "It is an
interesting case, too, at the bottom of it."
"I can make little of it," I confessed.
"Well, it is quite evident that there are two
men--more, perhaps, but at least two--who are
determined for some reason to get at this fellow
Blessington. I have no doubt in my mind that
both on the first and on the second occasion
that young man penetrated to Blessington`s room,
while his confederate, by an ingenious device,
kept the doctor from interfering."
"And the catalepsy?"
"A fraudulent imitation, Watson, though I
should hardly dare to hint as much to our
specialist. It is a very easy complaint to
imitate. I have done it myself."
"And then?"
"By the purest chance Blessington was out on
each occasion. Their reason for choosing so
unusual an hour for a consultation was obviously
to insure that there should be no other patient
in the waiting-room. It just happened, however,
that this hour coincided with Blessington`s
constitutional, which seems to show that they
were not very well acquainted with his daily
routine. Of course, if they had been merely
after plunder they would at least have made some
attempt to search for it. Besides, I can read in
a man`s eye when it is his own skin that he is
frightened for. It is inconceivable that this
fellow could have made two such vindictive
enemies as these appear to be without knowing of
it. I hold it, therefore, to be certain that he
does know who these men are, and that for
reasons of his own he suppresses it. It is just
possible that to-morrow may find him in a more
communicative mood."
"Is there not one alternative," I suggested,
"grotesquely improbably, no doubt, but still
just conceivable? Might the whole story of the
cataleptic Russian and his son be a concoction
of Dr. Trevelyan`s, who has, for his own
purposes, been in Blessington`s rooms?"
I saw in the gaslight that Holmes wore an
amused smile at this brilliant departure of
mine.
"My dear fellow," said he, "it was one of the
first solutions which occurred to me, but I was
soon able to corroborate the doctor`s tale. This
young man has left prints upon the stair-carpet
which made it quite superfluous for me to ask to
see those which he had made in the room. When I
tell you that his shoes were square-toed instead
of being pointed like Blessington`s, and were
quite an inch and a third longer than the
doctor`s, you will acknowledge that there can be
no doubt as to his individuality. But we may
sleep on it now, for I shall be surprised if we
do not hear something further from Brook Street
in the morning."
Sherlock Holmes`s prophecy was soon
fulfilled, and in a dramatic fashion. At
half-past seven next morning, in the first
glimmer of daylight, I found him standing by my
bedside in his dressing-gown.
"There`s a brougham waiting for us, Watson,"
said he.
"What`s the matter, then?"
"The Brook Street business."
"Any fresh news?"
"Tragic, but ambiguous," said he, pulling up
the blind. "Look at this--a sheet from a
note-book, with `For God`s sake come at once--P.
T.,` scrawled upon it in pencil. Our friend, the
doctor, was hard put to it when he wrote this.
Come along, my dear fellow, for it`s an urgent
call."
In a quarter of an hour or so we were back at
the physician`s house. He came running out to
meet us with a face of horror.
"Oh, such a business!" he cried, with his
hands to his temples.
"What then?"
"Blessington has committed suicide!"
Holmes whistled.
"Yes, he hanged himself during the night."
We had entered, and the doctor had preceded
us into what was evidently his waiting-room.
"I really hardly know what I am doing," he
cried. "The police are already upstairs. It has
shaken me most dreadfully."
"When did you find it out?"
"He has a cup of tea taken in to him early
every morning. When the maid entered, about
seven, there the unfortunate fellow was hanging
in the middle of the room. He had tied his cord
to the hook on which the heavy lamp used to
hang, and he had jumped off from the top of the
very box that he showed us yesterday."
Holmes stood for a moment in deep thought.
"With your permission," said he at last, "I
should like to go upstairs and look into the
matter."
We both ascended, followed by the doctor.
It was a dreadful sight which met us as we
entered the bedroom door. I have spoken of the
impression of flabbiness which this man
Blessington conveyed. As he dangled from the
hook it was exaggerated and intensified until he
was scarce human in his appearance. The neck was
drawn out like a plucked chicken`s, making the
rest of him seem the more obese and unnatural by
the contrast. He was clad only in his long
night-dress, and his swollen ankles and ungainly
feet protruded starkly from beneath it. Beside
him stood a smart-looking police-inspector, who
was taking notes in a pocket-book.
"Ah, Mr. Holmes," said he, heartily, as my
friend entered, "I am delighted to see you."
"Good-morning, Lanner," answered Holmes; "you
won`t think me an intruder, I am sure. Have you
heard of the events which led up to this
affair?"
"Yes, I heard something of them."
"Have you formed any opinion?"
"As far as I can see, the man has been driven
out of his senses by fright. The bed has been
well slept in, you see. There`s his impression
deep enough. It`s about five in the morning, you
know, that suicides are most common. That would
be about his time for hanging himself. It seems
to have been a very deliberate affair."
"I should say that he has been dead about
three hours, judging by the rigidity of the
muscles," said I.
"Noticed anything peculiar about the room?"
asked Holmes.
"Found a screw-driver and some screws on the
wash-hand stand. Seems to have smoked heavily
during the night, too. Here are four cigar-ends
that I picked out of the fireplace."
"Hum!" said Holmes, "have you got his
cigar-holder?"
"No, I have seen none."
"His cigar-case, then?"
"Yes, it was in his coat-pocket."
Holmes opened it and smelled the single cigar
which it contained.
"Oh, this is an Havana, and these others are
cigars of the peculiar sort which are imported
by the Dutch from their East Indian colonies.
They are usually wrapped in straw, you know, and
are thinner for their length than any other
brand." He picked up the four ends and examined
them with his pocket-lens.
"Two of these have been smoked from a holder
and two without," said he. "Two have been cut by
a not very sharp knife, and two have had the
ends bitten off by a set of excellent teeth.
This is no suicide, Mr. Lanner. It is a very
deeply planned and cold-blooded murder."
"Impossible!" cried the inspector.
"And why?"
"Why should any one murder a man in so clumsy
a fashion as by hanging him?"
"That is what we have to find out."
"How could they get in?"
"Through the front door."
"It was barred in the morning."
"Then it was barred after them."
"How do you know?"
"I saw their traces. Excuse me a moment, and
I may be able to give you some further
information about it."
He went over to the door, and turning the
lock he examined it in his methodical way. Then
he took out the key, which was on the inside,
and inspected that also. The bed, the carpet,
the chairs the mantelpiece, the dead body, and
the rope were each in turn examined, until at
last he professed himself satisfied, and with my
aid and that of the inspector cut down the
wretched object and laid it reverently under a
sheet.
"How about this rope?" he asked.
"It is cut off this," said Dr. Trevelyan,
drawing a large coil from under the bed. "He was
morbidly nervous of fire, and always kept this
beside him, so that he might escape by the
window in case the stairs were burning."
"That must have saved them trouble," said
Holmes, thoughtfully. "Yes, the actual facts are
very plain, and I shall be surprised if by the
afternoon I cannot give you the reasons for them
as well. I will take this photograph of
Blessington, which I see upon the mantelpiece,
as it may help me in my inquiries."
"But you have told us nothing!" cried the
doctor.
"Oh, there can be no doubt as to the sequence
of events," said Holmes. "There were three of
them in it: the young man, the old man, and a
third, to whose identity I have no clue. The
first two, I need hardly remark, are the same
who masqueraded as the Russian count and his
son, so we can give a very full description of
them. They were admitted by a confederate inside
the house. If I might offer you a word of
advice, Inspector, it would be to arrest the
page, who, as I understand, has only recently
come into your service, Doctor."
"The young imp cannot be found," said Dr.
Trevelyan; "the maid and the cook have just been
searching for him."
Holmes shrugged his shoulders.
"He has played a not unimportant part in this
drama," said he. "The three men having ascended
the stairs, which they did on tiptoe, the elder
man first, the younger man second, and the
unknown man in the rear--"
"My dear Holmes!" I ejaculated.
"Oh, there could be no question as to the
superimposing of the footmarks. I had the
advantage of learning which was which last
night. They ascended, then, to Mr. Blessington`s
room, the door of which they found to be locked.
With the help of a wire, however, they forced
round the key. Even without the lens you will
perceive, by the scratches on this ward, where
the pressure was applied.
"On entering the room their first proceeding
must have been to gag Mr. Blessington. He may
have been asleep, or he may have been so
paralyzed with terror as to have been unable to
cry out. These walls are thick, and it is
conceivable that his shriek, if he had time to
utter one, was unheard.
"Having secured him, it is evident to me that
a consultation of some sort was held. Probably
it was something in the nature of a judicial
proceeding. It must have lasted for some time,
for it was then that these cigars were smoke.
The older man sat in that wicker chair; it was
he who used the cigar-holder. The younger man
sat over yonder; he knocked his ash off against
the chest of drawers. The third fellow paced up
and down. Blessington, I think, sat upright in
the bed, but of that I cannot be absolutely
certain.
"Well, it ended by their taking Blessington
and hanging him. The matter was so prearranged
that it is my belief that they brought with them
some sort of block or pulley which might serve
as a gallows. That screw-driver and those screws
were, as I conceive, for fixing it up. Seeing
the hook, however they naturally saved
themselves the trouble. Having finished their
work they made off, and the door was barred
behind them by their confederate."
We had all listened with the deepest interest
to this sketch of the night`s doings, which
Holmes had deduced from signs so subtle and
minute that, even when he had pointed them out
to us, we could scarcely follow him in his
reasoning. The inspector hurried away on the
instant to make inquiries about the page, while
Holmes and I returned to Baker Street for
breakfast.
"I`ll be back by three," said he, when we had
finished our meal. "Both the inspector and the
doctor will meet me here at that hour, and I
hope by that time to have cleared up any little
obscurity which the case may still present."
Our visitors arrived at the appointed time,
but it was a quarter to four before my friend
put in an appearance. From his expression as he
entered, however, I could see that all had gone
well with him.
"Any news, Inspector?"
"We have got the boy, sir."
"Excellent, and I have got the men."
"You have got them!" we cried, all three.
"Well, at least I have got their identity.
This so-called Blessington is, as I expected,
well known at headquarters, and so are his
assailants. Their names are Biddle, Hayward, and
Moffat."
"The Worthingdon bank gang," cried the
inspector.
"Precisely," said Holmes.
"Then Blessington must have been Sutton."
"Exactly," said Holmes.
"Why, that makes it as clear as crystal,"
said the inspector.
But Trevelyan and I looked at each other in
bewilderment.
"You must surely remember the great
Worthingdon bank business," said Holmes. "Five
men were in it--these four and a fifth called
Cartwright. Tobin, the care-taker, was murdered,
and the thieves got away with seven thousand
pounds. This was in 1875. They were all five
arrested, but the evidence against them was by
no means conclusive. This Blessington or Sutton,
who was the worst of the gang, turned informer.
On his evidence Cartwright was hanged and the
other three got fifteen years apiece. When they
got out the other day, which was some years
before their full term, they set themselves, as
you perceive, to hunt down the traitor and to
avenge the death of their comrade upon him.
Twice they tried to get at him and failed; a
third time, you see, it came off. Is there
anything further which I can explain, Dr.
Trevelyan?"
"I think you have made it all remarkable
clear," said the doctor. "No doubt the day on
which he was perturbed was the day when he had
seen of their release in the newspapers."
"Quite so. His talk about a burglary was the
merest blind."
"But why could he not tell you this?"
"Well, my dear sir, knowing the vindictive
character of his old associates, he was trying
to hide his own identity from everybody as long
as he could. His secret was a shameful one, and
he could not bring himself to divulge it.
However, wretch as he was, he was still living
under the shield of British law, and I have no
doubt, Inspector, that you will see that, though
that shield may fail to guard, the sword of
justice is still there to avenge."
Such were the singular circumstances in
connection with the Resident Patient and the
Brook Street Doctor. From that night nothing has
been seen of the three murderers by the police,
and it is surmised at Scotland Yard that they
were among the passengers of the ill-fated
steamer Norah Creina, which was lost some years
ago with all hands upon the Portuguese coast,
some leagues to the north of Oporto. The
proceedings against the page broke down for want
of evidence, and the Brook Street Mystery, as it
was called, has never until now been fully dealt
with in any public print.
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Adventure IX
The Greek Interpreter
During my long and intimate acquaintance with Mr. Sherlock Holmes I had
never heard him refer to his relations, and
hardly ever to his own early life. This
reticence upon his part had increased the
somewhat inhuman effect which he produced upon
me, until sometimes I found myself regarding him
as an isolated phenomenon, a brain without a
heart, as deficient in human sympathy as he was
pre-eminent in intelligence. His aversion to
women and his disinclination to form new
friendships were both typical of his unemotional
character, but not more so than his complete
suppression of every reference to his own
people. I had come to believe that he was an
orphan with no relatives living, but one day, to
my very great surprise, he began to talk to me
about his brother.
It was after tea on a summer evening, and the
conversation, which had roamed in a desultory,
spasmodic fashion from golf clubs to the causes
of the change in the obliquity of the ecliptic,
came round at last to the question of atavism
and hereditary aptitudes. The point under
discussion was, how far any singular gift in an
individual was due to his ancestry and how far
to his own early training.
"In your own case," said I, "from all that
you have told me, it seems obvious that your
faculty of observation and your peculiar
facility for deduction are due to your own
systematic training."
"To some extent," he answered, thoughtfully.
"My ancestors were country squires, who appear
to have led much the same life as is natural to
their class. But, none the less, my turn that
way is in my veins, and may have come with my
grandmother, who was the sister of Vernet, the
French artist. Art in the blood is liable to
take the strangest forms."
"But how do you know that it is hereditary?"
"Because my brother Mycroft possesses it in a
larger degree than I do."
This was news to me indeed. If there were
another man with such singular powers in
England, how was it that neither police nor
public had heard of him? I put the question,
with a hint that it was my companion`s modesty
which made him acknowledge his brother as his
superior. Holmes laughed at my suggestion.
"My dear Watson," said he, "I cannot agree
with those who rank modesty among the virtues.
To the logician all things should be seen
exactly as they are, and to underestimate one`s
self is as much a departure from truth as to
exaggerate one`s own powers. When I say,
therefore, that Mycroft has better powers of
observation than I, you may take it that I am
speaking the exact and literal truth."
"Is he your junior?"
"Seven years my senior."
"How comes it that he is unknown?"
"Oh, he is very well known in his own
circle."
"Where, then?"
"Well, in the Diogenes Club, for example."
I had never heard of the institution, and my
face must have proclaimed as much, for Sherlock
Holmes pulled out his watch.
"The Diogenes Club is the queerest club in
London, and Mycroft one of the queerest men.
He`s always there from quarter to five to twenty
to eight. It`s six now, so if you care for a
stroll this beautiful evening I shall be very
happy to introduce you to two curiosities."
"Five minutes later we were in the street,
walking towards Regent`s Circus.
"You wonder," said my companion, "why it is
that Mycroft does not use his powers for
detective work. He is incapable of it."
"But I thought you said--"
"I said that he was my superior in
observation and deduction. If the art of the
detective began and ended in reasoning from an
arm-chair, my brother would be the greatest
criminal agent that ever lived. But he has no
ambition and no energy. He will not even go out
of his way to verify his own solution, and would
rather be considered wrong than take the trouble
to prove himself right. Again and again I have
taken a problem to him, and have received an
explanation which has afterwards proved to be
the correct one. And yet he was absolutely
incapable of working out the practical points
which must be gone into before a case could be
laid before a judge or jury."
"It is not his profession, then?"
"By no means. What is to me a means of
livelihood is to him the merest hobby of a
dilettante. He has an extraordinary faculty for
figures, and audits the books in some of the
government departments. Mycroft lodges in Pall
Mall, and he walks round the corner into
Whitehall every morning and back every evening.
From year`s end to year`s end he takes no other
exercise, and is seen nowhere else, except only
in the Diogenes Club, which is just opposite his
rooms."
"I cannot recall the name."
"Very likely not. There are many men in
London, you know, who, some from shyness, some
from misanthropy, have no wish for the company
of their fellows. Yet they are not averse to
comfortable chairs and the latest periodicals.
It is for the convenience of these that the
Diogenes Club was started, and it now contains
the most unsociable and unclubable men in town.
No member is permitted to take the least notice
of any other one. Save in the Stranger`s Room,
no talking is, under any circumstances, allowed,
and three offences, if brought to the notice of
the committee, render the talker liable to
expulsion. My brother was one of the founders,
and I have myself found it a very soothing
atmosphere."
We had reached Pall Mall as we talked, and
were walking down it from the St. James`s end.
Sherlock Holmes stopped at a door some little
distance from the Carlton, and, cautioning me
not to speak, he led the way into the hall.
Through the glass paneling I caught a glimpse of
a large and luxurious room, in which a
considerable number of men were sitting about
and reading papers, each in his own little nook.
Holmes showed me into a small chamber which
looked out into Pall Mall, and then, leaving me
for a minute, he came back with a companion whom
I knew could only be his brother.
Mycroft Holmes was a much larger and stouter
man than Sherlock. His body was absolutely
corpulent, but is face, though massive, had
preserved something of the sharpness of
expression which was so remarkable in that of
his brother. His eyes, which were of a
peculiarly light, watery gray, seemed to always
retain that far-away, introspective look which I
had only observed in Sherlock`s when he was
exerting his full powers.
"I am glad to meet you, sir," said he,
putting out a broad, fat hand like the flipper
of a seal. "I hear of Sherlock everywhere since
you became his chronicler. By the way, Sherlock,
I expected to see you round last week, to
consult me over that Manor House case. I thought
you might be a little out of your depth."
"No, I solved it," said my friend, smiling.
"It was Adams, of course."
"Yes, it was Adams."
"I was sure of it from the first." The two
sat down together in the bow-window of the club.
"To any one who wishes to study mankind this is
the spot," said Mycroft. "Look at the
magnificent types! Look at these two men who are
coming towards us, for example."
"The billiard-marker and the other?"
"Precisely. What do you make of the other?"
The two men had stopped opposite the window.
Some chalk marks over the waistcoat pocket were
the only signs of billiards which I could see in
one of them. The other was a very small, dark
fellow, with his hat pushed back and several
packages under his arm.
"An old soldier, I perceive," said Sherlock.
"And very recently discharged," remarked the
brother.
"Served in India, I see."
"And a non-commissioned officer."
"Royal Artillery, I fancy," said Sherlock.
"And a widower."
"But with a child."
"Children, my dear boy, children."
"Come," said I, laughing, "this is a little
too much."
"Surely," answered Holmes, "it is not hard to
say that a man with that bearing, expression of
authority, and sunbaked skin, is a soldier, is
more than a private, and is not long from
India."
"That he has not left the service long is
shown by his still wearing is ammunition boots,
as they are called," observed Mycroft.
"He had not the cavalry stride, yet he wore
his hat on one side, as is shown by the lighter
skin of that side of his brow. His weight is
against his being a sapper. He is in the
artillery."
"Then, of course, his complete mourning shows
that he has lost some one very dear. The fact
that he is doing his own shopping looks as
though it were his wife. He has been buying
things for children, you perceive. There is a
rattle, which shows that one of them is very
young. The wife probably died in childbed. The
fact that he has a picture-book under his arm
shows that there is another child to be thought
of."
I began to understand what my friend meant
when he said that his brother possessed even
keener faculties that he did himself. He glanced
across at me and smiled. Mycroft took snuff from
a tortoise-shell box, and brushed away the
wandering grains from his coat front with a
large, red silk handkerchief.
"By the way, Sherlock," said he, "I have had
something quite after your own heart--a most
singular problem--submitted to my judgment. I
really had not the energy to follow it up save
in a very incomplete fashion, but it gave me a
basis for some pleasing speculation. If you
would care to hear the facts--"
"My dear Mycroft, I should be delighted."
The brother scribbled a note upon a leaf of
his pocket-book, and, ringing the bell, he
handed it to the waiter.
"I have asked Mr. Melas to step across," said
he. "He lodges on the floor above me, and I have
some slight acquaintance with him, which led him
to come to me in his perplexity. Mr. Melas is a
Greek by extraction, as I understand, and he is
a remarkable linguist. He earns his living
partly as interpreter in the law courts and
partly by acting as guide to any wealthy
Orientals who may visit the Northumberland
Avenue hotels. I think I will leave him to tell
his very remarkable experience in his own
fashion."
A few minutes later we were joined by a
short, stout man whose olive face and coal-black
hair proclaimed his Southern origin, though his
speech was that of an educated Englishman. He
shook hands eagerly with Sherlock Holmes, and
his dark eyes sparkled with pleasure when he
understood that the specialist was anxious to
hear his story.
"I do not believe that the police credit
me--on my word, I do not," said he in a wailing
voice. "Just because they have never heard of it
before, they think that such a thing cannot be.
But I know that I shall never be easy in my mind
until I know what has become of my poor man with
the sticking-plaster upon his face."
"I am all attention," said Sherlock Holmes.
"This is Wednesday evening," said Mr. Melas.
"Well then, it was Monday night--only two days
ago, you understand--that all this happened. I
am an interpreter, as perhaps my neighbor there
has told you. I interpret all languages--or
nearly all--but as I am a Greek by birth and
with a Grecian name, it is with that particular
tongue that I am principally associated. For
many years I have been the chief Greek
interpreter in London, and my name is very well
known in the hotels.
It happens not unfrequently that I am sent
for at strange hours by foreigners who get into
difficulties, or by travelers who arrive late
and wish my services. I was not surprised,
therefore, on Monday night when a Mr. Latimer, a
very fashionably dressed young man, came up to
my rooms and asked me to accompany him in a cab
which was waiting at the door. A Greek friend
had come to see him upon business, he said, and
as he could speak nothing but his own tongue,
the services of an interpreter were
indispensable. He gave me to understand that his
house was some little distance off, in
Kensington, and he seemed to be in a great
hurry, bustling me rapidly into the cab when we
had descended to the street.
"I say into the cab, but I soon became
doubtful as to whether it was not a carriage in
which I found myself. It was certainly more
roomy than the ordinary four-wheeled disgrace to
London, and the fittings, though frayed, were of
rich quality. Mr. Latimer seated himself
opposite to me and we started off through
Charing Cross and up the Shaftesbury Avenue. We
had come out upon Oxford Street and I had
ventured some remark as to this being a
roundabout way to Kensington, when my words were
arrested by the extraordinary conduct of my
companion.
"He began by drawing a most
formidable-looking bludgeon loaded with lead
from his pocket, and switching it backward and
forward several times, as if to test its weight
and strength. Then he placed it without a word
upon the seat beside him. Having done this, he
drew up the windows on each side, and I found to
my astonishment that they were covered with
paper so as to prevent my seeing through them.
"`I am sorry to cut off your view, Mr.
Melas,` said he. `The fact is that I have no
intention that you should see what the place is
to which we are driving. It might possibly be
inconvenient to me if you could find your way
there again.`
"As you can imagine, I was utterly taken
aback by such an address. My companion was a
powerful, broad-shouldered young fellow, and,
apart from the weapon, I should not have had the
slightest chance in a struggle with him.
"`This is very extraordinary conduct, Mr.
Latimer,` I stammered. `You must be aware that
what you are doing is quite illegal.`
"`It is somewhat of a liberty, no doubt,`
said he, `but we`ll make it up to you. I must
warn you, however, Mr. Melas, that if at any
time to-night you attempt to raise an alarm or
do anything which is against my interests, you
will find it a very serious thing. I beg you to
remember that no one knows where you are, and
that, whether you are in this carriage or in my
house, you are equally in my power.`
"His words were quiet, but he had a rasping
way of saying them which was very menacing. I
sat in silence wondering what on earth could be
his reason for kidnapping me in this
extraordinary fashion. Whatever it might be, it
was perfectly clear that there was no possible
use in my resisting, and that I could only wait
to see what might befall.
"For nearly two hours we drove without my
having the least clue as to where we were going.
Sometimes the rattle of the stones told of a
paved causeway, and at others our smooth, silent
course suggested asphalt; but, save by this
variation in sound, there was nothing at all
which could in the remotest way help me to form
a guess as to where we were. The paper over each
window was impenetrable to light, and a blue
curtain was drawn across the glass work in
front. It was a quarter-past seven when we left
Pall Mall, and my watch showed me that it was
ten minutes to nine when we at last came to a
standstill. My companion let down the window,
and I caught a glimpse of a low, arched doorway
with a lamp burning above it. As I was hurried
from the carriage it swung open, and I found
myself inside the house, with a vague impression
of a lawn and trees on each side of me as I
entered. Whether these were private grounds,
however, or bona-fide country was more than I
could possibly venture to say.
"There was a colored gas-lamp inside which
was turned so low that I could see little save
that the hall was of some size and hung with
pictures. In the dim light I could make out that
the person who had opened the door was a small,
mean-looking, middle-aged man with rounded
shoulders. As he turned towards us the glint of
the light showed me that he was wearing glasses.
"`Is this Mr. Melas, Harold?` said he.
"`Yes.`
"`Well done, well done! No ill-will, Mr.
Melas, I hope, but we could not get on without
you. If you deal fair with us you`ll not regret
it, but if you try any tricks, God help you!` He
spoke in a nervous, jerky fashion, and with
little giggling laughs in between, but somehow
he impressed me with fear more than the other.
"`What do you want with me?` I asked.
"`Only to ask a few questions of a Greek
gentleman who is visiting us, and to let us have
the answers. But say no more than you are told
to say, or--` here came the nervous giggle
again--`you had better never have been born.`
"As he spoke he opened a door and showed the
way into a room which appeared to be very richly
furnished, but again the only light was afforded
by a single lamp half-turned down. The chamber
was certainly large, and the way in which my
feet sank into the carpet as I stepped across it
told me of its richness. I caught glimpses of
velvet chairs, a high white marble mantel-piece,
and what seemed to be a suit of Japanese armor
at one side of it. There was a chair just under
the lamp, and the elderly man motioned that I
should sit in it. The younger had left us, but
he suddenly returned through another door,
leading with him a gentleman clad in some sort
of loose dressing-gown who moved slowly towards
us. As he came into the circle of dim light
which enables me to see him more clearly I was
thrilled with horror at his appearance. He was
deadly pale and terribly emaciated, with the
protruding, brilliant eyes of a man whose spirit
was greater than his strength. But what shocked
me more than any signs of physical weakness was
that his face was grotesquely criss-crossed with
sticking-plaster, and that one large pad of it
was fastened over his mouth.
"`Have you the slate, Harold?` cried the
older man, as this strange being fell rather
than sat down into a chair. `Are his hands
loose? Now, then, give him the pencil. You are
to ask the questions, Mr. Melas, and he will
write the answers. Ask him first of all whether
he is prepared to sign the papers?`
"The man`s eyes flashed fire.
"`Never!` he wrote in Greek upon the slate.
"`On no condition?` I asked, at the bidding
of our tyrant.
"`Only if I see her married in my presence by
a Greek priest whom I know.`
"The man giggled in his venomous way.
"`You know what awaits you, then?`
"`I care nothing for myself.`
"These are samples of the questions and
answers which made up our strange half-spoken,
half-written conversation. Again and again I had
to ask him whether he would give in and sign the
documents. Again and again I had the same
indignant reply. But soon a happy thought came
to me. I took to adding on little sentences of
my own to each question, innocent ones at first,
to test whether either of our companions knew
anything of the matter, and then, as I found
that they showed no signs I played a more
dangerous game. Our conversation ran something
like this:
"`You can do no good by this obstinacy. Who
are you?`
"`I care not. I am a stranger in London.`
"`Your fate will be upon your own head. How
long have you been here?`
"`Let it be so. Three weeks.`
"`The property can never be yours. What ails
you?`
"`It shall not go to villains. They are
starving me.`
"`You shall go free if you sign. What house
is this?`
"`I will never sign. I do not know.`
"`You are not doing her any service. What is
your name?`
"`Let me hear her say so. Kratides.`
"`You shall see her if you sign. Where are
you from?`
"`Then I shall never see her. Athens.`
"Another five minutes, Mr. Holmes, and I
should have wormed out the whole story under
their very noses. My very next question might
have cleared the matter up, but at that instant
the door opened and a woman stepped into the
room. I could not see her clearly enough to know
more than that she was tall and graceful, with
black hair, and clad in some sort of loose white
gown.
"`Harold,` said she, speaking English with a
broken accent. `I could not stay away longer. It
is so lonely up there with only--Oh, my God, it
is Paul!`
"These last words were in Greek, and at the
same instant the man with a convulsive effort
tore the plaster from his lips, and screaming
out `Sophy! Sophy!` rushed into the woman`s
arms. Their embrace was but for an instant,
however, for the younger man seized the woman
and pushed her out of the room, while the elder
easily overpowered his emaciated victim, and
dragged him away through the other door. For a
moment I was left alone in the room, and I
sprang to my feet with some vague idea that I
might in some way get a clue to what this house
was in which I found myself. Fortunately,
however, I took no steps, for looking up I saw
that the older man was standing in the door-way
with his eyes fixed upon me.
"`That will do, Mr. Melas,` said he. `You
perceive that we have taken you into our
confidence over some very private business. We
should not have troubled you, only that our
friend who speaks Greek and who began these
negotiations has been forced to return to the
East. It was quite necessary for us to find some
one to take his place, and we were fortunate in
hearing of your powers.`
"I bowed.
"`There are five sovereigns here,` said he,
walking up to me, `which will, I hope, be a
sufficient fee. But remember,` he added, tapping
me lightly on the chest and giggling, `if you
speak to a human soul about this--one human
soul, mind--well, may God have mercy upon your
soul!"
"I cannot tell you the loathing and horror
with which this insignificant-looking man
inspired me. I could see him better now as the
lamp-light shone upon him. His features were
peaky and sallow, and his little pointed beard
was thready and ill-nourished. He pushed his
face forward as he spoke and his lips and
eyelids were continually twitching like a man
with St. Vitus`s dance. I could not help
thinking that his strange, catchy little laugh
was also a symptom of some nervous malady. The
terror of his face lay in his eyes, however,
steel gray, and glistening coldly with a
malignant, inexorable cruelty in their depths.
"`We shall know if you speak of this,` said
he. `We have our own means of information. Now
you will find the carriage waiting, and my
friend will see you on your way.`
"I was hurried through the hall and into the
vehicle, again obtaining that momentary glimpse
of trees and a garden. Mr. Latimer followed
closely at my heels, and took his place opposite
to me without a word. In silence we again drove
for an interminable distance with the windows
raised, until at last, just after midnight, the
carriage pulled up.
"`You will get down here, Mr. Melas,` said my
companion. `I am sorry to leave you so far from
your house, but there is no alternative. Any
attempt upon your part to follow the carriage
can only end in injury to yourself.`
"He opened the door as he spoke, and I had
hardly time to spring out when the coachman
lashed the horse and the carriage rattled away.
I looked around me in astonishment. I was on
some sort of a heathy common mottled over with
dark clumps of furze-bushes. Far away stretched
a line of houses, with a light here and there in
the upper windows. On the other side I saw the
red signal-lamps of a railway.
"The carriage which had brought me was
already out of sight. I stood gazing round and
wondering where on earth I might be, when I saw
some one coming towards me in the darkness. As
he came up to me I made out that he was a
railway porter.
"`Can you tell me what place this is?` I
asked.
"`Wandsworth Common,` said he.
"`Can I get a train into town?`
"`If you walk on a mile or so to Clapham
Junction,` said he, `you`ll just be in time for
the last to Victoria.`
"So that was the end of my adventure, Mr.
Holmes. I do not know where I was, nor whom I
spoke with, nor anything save what I have told
you. But I know that there is foul play going
on, and I want to help that unhappy man if I
can. I told the whole story to Mr. Mycroft
Holmes next morning, and subsequently to the
police."
We all sat in silence for some little time
after listening to this extraordinary narrative.
Then Sherlock looked across at his brother.
"Any steps?" he asked.
Mycroft picked up the Daily News, which was
lying on the side-table.
"`Anybody supplying any information to the
whereabouts of a Greek gentleman named Paul
Kratides, from Athens, who is unable to speak
English, will be rewarded. A similar reward paid
to any one giving information about a Greek lady
whose first name is Sophy. X 2473.` That was in
all the dailies. No answer."
"How about the Greek Legation?"
"I have inquired. They know nothing."
"A wire to the head of the Athens police,
then?"
"Sherlock has all the energy of the family,"
said Mycroft, turning to me. "Well, you take the
case up by all means, and let me know if you do
any good."
"Certainly," answered my friend, rising from
his chair. "I`ll let you know, and Mr. Melas
also. In the meantime, Mr. Melas, I should
certainly be on my guard, if I were you, for of
course they must know through these
advertisements that you have betrayed them."
As we walked home together, Holmes stopped at
a telegraph office and sent off several wires.
"You see, Watson," he remarked, "our evening
has been by no means wasted. Some of my most
interesting cases have come to me in this way
through Mycroft. The problem which we have just
listened to, although it can admit of but one
explanation, has still some distinguishing
features."
"You have hopes of solving it?"
"Well, knowing as much as we do, it will be
singular indeed if we fail to discover the rest.
You must yourself have formed some theory which
will explain the facts to which we have
listened."
"In a vague way, yes."
"What was your idea, then?"
"It seemed to me to be obvious that this
Greek girl had been carried off by the young
Englishman named Harold Latimer."
"Carried off from where?"
"Athens, perhaps."
Sherlock Holmes shook his head. "This young
man could not talk a word of Greek. The lady
could talk English fairly well. Inference--that
she had been in England some little time, but he
had not been in Greece."
"Well, then, we will presume that she had
come on a visit to England, and that this Harold
had persuaded her to fly with him."
"That is more probable."
"Then the brother--for that, I fancy, must be
the relationship--comes over from Greece to
interfere. He imprudently puts himself into the
power of the young man and his older associate.
They seize him and use violence towards him in
order to make him sign some papers to make over
the girl`s fortune--of which he may be
trustee--to them. This he refuses to do. In
order to negotiate with him they have to get an
interpreter , and they pitch upon this Mr.
Melas, having used some other one before. The
girl is not told of the arrival of her brother,
and finds it out by the merest accident."
"Excellent, Watson!" cried Holmes. "I really
fancy that you are not far from the truth. You
see that we hold all the cards, and we have only
to fear some sudden act of violence on their
part. If they give us time we must have them."
"But how can we find where this house lies?"
"Well, if our conjecture is correct and the
girl`s name is or was Sophy Kratides, we should
have no difficulty in tracing her. That must be
our main hope, for the brother is, of course, a
complete stranger. It is clear that some time
has elapsed since this Harold established these
relations with the girl--some weeks, at any
rate--since the brother in Greece has had time
to hear of it and come across. If they have been
living in the same place during this time, it is
probable that we shall have some answer to
Mycroft`s advertisement."
We had reached our house in Baker Street
while we had been talking. Holmes ascended the
stair first, and as he opened the door of our
room he gave a start of surprise. Looking over
his shoulder, I was equally astonished. His
brother Mycroft was sitting smoking in the
arm-chair.
"Come in, Sherlock! Come in, sir," said he
blandly, smiling at our surprised faces. "You
don`t expect such energy from me, do you,
Sherlock? But somehow this case attracts me."
"How did you get here?"
"I passed you in a hansom."
"There has been some new development?"
"I had an answer to my advertisement."
"Ah!"
"Yes, it came within a few minutes of your
leaving."
"And to what effect?"
Mycroft Holmes took out a sheet of paper.
"Here it is," said he, "written with a J pen
on royal cream paper by a middle-aged man with a
weak constitution. `Sir,` he says, `in answer to
your advertisement of to-day`s date, I beg to
inform you that I know the young lady in
question very well. If you should care to call
upon me I could give you some particulars as to
her painful history. She is living at present at
The Myrtles, Beckenham. Yours faithfully, J.
Davenport.`
"He writes from Lower Brixton," said Mycroft
Holmes. "Do you not think that we might drive to
him now, Sherlock, and learn these particulars?"
"My dear Mycroft, the brother`s life is more
valuable than the sister`s story. I think we
should call at Scotland Yard for Inspector
Gregson, and go straight out to Beckenham. We
know that a man is being done to death, and
every hour may be vital."
"Better pick up Mr. Melas on our way," I
suggested. "We may need an interpreter."
"Excellent," said Sherlock Holmes. "Send the
boy for a four-wheeler, and we shall be off at
once." He opened the table-drawer as he spoke,
and I noticed that he slipped his revolver into
his pocket. "Yes," said he, in answer to my
glance; "I should say from what we have heard,
that we are dealing with a particularly
dangerous gang."
It was almost dark before we found ourselves
in Pall Mall, at the rooms of Mr. Melas. A
gentleman had just called for him, and he was
gone.
"Can you tell me where?" asked Mycroft
Holmes.
"I don`t know, sir," answered the woman who
had opened the door; "I only know that he drove
away with the gentleman in a carriage."
"Did the gentleman give a name?"
"No, sir."
"He wasn`t a tall, handsome, dark young man?"
"Oh, no, sir. He was a little gentleman, with
glasses, thin in the face, but very pleasant in
his ways, for he was laughing al the time that
he was talking."
"Come along!" cried Sherlock Holmes,
abruptly. "This grows serious," he observed, as
we drove to Scotland Yard. "These men have got
hold of Melas again. He is a man of no physical
courage, as they are well aware from their
experience the other night. This villain was
able to terrorize him the instant that he got
into his presence. No doubt they want his
professional services, but, having used him,
they may be inclined to punish him for what they
will regard as his treachery."
Our hope was that, by taking train, we might
get to Beckenham as soon or sooner than the
carriage. On reaching Scotland Yard, however, it
was more than an hour before we could get
Inspector Gregson and comply with the legal
formalities which would enable us to enter the
house. It was a quarter to ten before we reached
London Bridge, and half past before the four of
us alighted on the Beckenham platform. A drive
of half a mile brought us to The Myrtles--a
large, dark house standing back from the road in
its own grounds. Here we dismissed our cab, and
made our way up the drive together.
"The windows are all dark," remarked the
inspector. "The house seems deserted."
"Our birds are flown and the nest empty,"
said Holmes.
"Why do you say so?"
"A carriage heavily loaded with luggage has
passed out during the last hour."
The inspector laughed. "I saw the
wheel-tracks in the light of the gate-lamp, but
where does the luggage come in?"
"You may have observed the same wheel-tracks
going the other way. But the outward-bound ones
were very much deeper--so much so that we can
say for a certainty that there was a very
considerable weight on the carriage."
"You get a trifle beyond me there," said the
inspector, shrugging his shoulder. "It will not
be an easy door to force, but we will try if we
cannot make some one hear us."
He hammered loudly at the knocker and pulled
at the bell, but without any success. Holmes had
slipped away, but he came back in a few minutes.
"I have a window open," said he.
"It is a mercy that you are on the side of
the force, and not against it, Mr. Holmes,"
remarked the inspector, as he noted the clever
way in which my friend had forced back the
catch. "Well, I think that under the
circumstances we may enter without an
invitation."
One after the other we made our way into a
large apartment, which was evidently that in
which Mr. Melas had found himself. The inspector
had lit his lantern, and by its light we could
see the two doors, the curtain, the lamp, and
the suit of Japanese mail as he had described
them. On the table lay two glasses, and empty
brandy-bottle, and the remains of a meal.
"What is that?" asked Holmes, suddenly.
We all stood still and listened. A low
moaning sound was coming from somewhere over our
heads. Holmes rushed to the door and out into
the hall. The dismal noise came from upstairs.
He dashed up, the inspector and I at his heels,
while his brother Mycroft followed as quickly as
his great bulk would permit.
Three doors faced up upon the second floor,
and it was from the central of these that the
sinister sounds were issuing, sinking sometimes
into a dull mumble and rising again into a
shrill whine. It was locked, but the key had
been left on the outside. Holmes flung open the
door and rushed in, but he was out again in an
instant, with his hand to his throat."
"It`s charcoal," he cried. "Give it time. It
will clear."
Peering in, we could see that the only light
in the room came from a dull blue flame which
flickered from a small brass tripod in the
centre. It threw a livid, unnatural circle upon
the floor, while in the shadows beyond we saw
the vague loom of two figures which crouched
against the wall. From the open door there
reeked a horrible poisonous exhalation which set
us gasping and coughing. Holmes rushed to the
top of the stairs to draw in the fresh air, and
then, dashing into the room, he threw up the
window and hurled the brazen tripod out into the
garden.
"We can enter in a minute," he gasped,
darting out again. "Where is a candle? I doubt
if we could strike a match in that atmosphere.
Hold the light at the door and we shall get them
out, Mycroft, now!"
With a rush we got to the poisoned men and
dragged them out into the well-lit hall. Both of
them were blue-lipped and insensible, with
swollen, congested faces and protruding eyes.
Indeed, so distorted were their features that,
save for his black beard and stout figure, we
might have failed to recognize in one of them
the Greek interpreter who had parted from us
only a few hours before at the Diogenes Club.
His hands and feet were securely strapped
together, and he bore over one eye the marks of
a violent blow. The other, who was secured in a
similar fashion, was a tall man in the last
stage of emaciation, with several strips of
sticking-plaster arranged in a grotesque pattern
over his face. He had ceased to moan as we laid
him down, and a glance showed me that for him at
least our aid had come too late. Mr. Melas,
however, still lived, and in less than an hour,
with the aid of ammonia and brandy I had the
satisfaction of seeing him open his eyes, and of
knowing that my hand had drawn him back from
that dark valley in which all paths meet.
It was a simple story which he had to tell,
and one which did but confirm our own
deductions. His visitor, on entering his rooms,
had drawn a life-preserver from his sleeve, and
had so impressed him with the fear of instant
and inevitable death that he had kidnapped him
for the second time. Indeed, it was almost
mesmeric, the effect which this giggling ruffian
had produced upon the unfortunate linguist, for
he could not speak of him save with trembling
hands and a blanched cheek. He had been taken
swiftly to Beckenham, and had acted as
interpreter in a second interview, even more
dramatic than the first, in which the two
Englishmen had menaced their prisoner with
instant death if he did not comply with their
demands. Finally, finding him proof against
every threat, they had hurled him back into his
prison, and after reproaching Melas with his
treachery, which appeared from the newspaper
advertisement, they had stunned him with a blow
from a stick, and he remembered nothing more
until he found us bending over him.
And this was the singular case of the Grecian
Interpreter, the explanation of which is still
involved in some mystery. We were able to find
out, by communicating with the gentleman who had
answered the advertisement, that the unfortunate
young lady came of a wealthy Grecian family, and
that she had been on a visit to some friends in
England. While there she had met a young man
named Harold Latimer, who had acquired an
ascendancy over he and had eventually persuaded
her to fly with him. Her friends, shocked at the
event, had contented themselves with informing
her brother at Athens, and had then washed their
hands of the matter. The brother, on his arrival
in England, had imprudently placed himself in
the power of Latimer and of his associate, whose
name was Wilson Kemp--that through his ignorance
of the language he was helpless in their hands,
had kept him a prisoner, and had endeavored by
cruelty and starvation to make him sign away his
own and his sister`s property. They had kept him
in the house without the girl`s knowledge, and
the plaster over the face had been for the
purpose of making recognition difficult in case
she should ever catch a glimpse of him. Her
feminine perception, however, had instantly seen
through the disguise when, on the occasion of
the interpreter`s visit, she had seen him for
the first time. The poor girl, however, was
herself a prisoner, for there was no one about
the house except the man who acted as coachman,
and his wife, both of whom were tools of the
conspirators. Finding that their secret was out,
and that their prisoner was not to be coerced,
the two villains with the girl had fled away at
a few hours` notice from the furnished house
which they had hired, having first, as they
thought, taken vengeance both upon the man who
had defied and the one who had betrayed them.
Months afterwards a curious newspaper cutting
reached us from Buda-Pesth. It told how two
Englishmen who had been traveling with a woman
had met with a tragic end. They had each been
stabbed, it seems, and the Hungarian police were
of opinion that they had quarreled and had
inflicted mortal injuries upon each other.
Holmes, however, is, I fancy, of a different way
of thinking, and holds to this day that, if one
could find the Grecian girl, one might learn how
the wrongs of herself and her brother came to be
avenged. |
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Adventure X
The Naval Treaty
The July which immediately succeeded my marriage was made memorable by
three cases of interest, in which I had the
privilege of being associated with Sherlock
Holmes and of studying his methods. I find them
recorded in my notes under the headings of "The
Adventure of the Second Stain," "The Adventure
of the Naval Treaty," and "The Adventure of the
Tired Captain." The first of these, however,
deals with interest of such importance and
implicates so many of the first families in the
kingdom that for many years it will be
impossible to make it public. No case, however,
in which Holmes was engaged has ever illustrated
the value of his analytical methods so clearly
or has impressed those who were associated with
him so deeply. I still retain an almost verbatim
report of the interview in which he demonstrated
the true facts of the case to Monsieur Dubugue
of the Paris police, and Fritz von Waldbaum, the
well-known specialist of Dantzig, both of whom
had wasted their energies upon what proved to be
side-issues. The new century will have come,
however, before the story can be safely told.
Meanwhile I pass on to the second on my list,
which promised also at one time to be of
national importance, and was marked by several
incidents which give it a quite unique
character.
During my school-days I had been intimately
associated with a lad named Percy Phelps, who
was of much the same age as myself, though he
was two classes ahead of me. He was a very
brilliant boy, and carried away every prize
which the school had to offer, finished his
exploits by winning a scholarship which sent him
on to continue his triumphant career at
Cambridge. He was, I remember, extremely well
connected, and even when we were all little boys
together we knew that his mother`s brother was
Lord Holdhurst, the great conservative
politician. This gaudy relationship did him
little good at school. On the contrary, it
seemed rather a piquant thing to us to chevy him
about the playground and hit him over the shins
with a wicket. But it was another thing when he
came out into the world. I heard vaguely that
his abilities and the influences which he
commanded had won him a good position at the
Foreign Office, and then he passed completely
out of my mind until the following letter
recalled his existence:
Briarbrae, Woking. My dear Watson,--I have
no doubt that you can remember "Tadpole" Phelps,
who was in the fifth form when you were in the
third. It is possible even that you may have
heard that through my uncle`s influence I
obtained a good appointment at the Foreign
Office, and that I was in a situation of trust
and honor until a horrible misfortune came
suddenly to blast my career.
There is no use writing of the details of
that dreadful event. In the event of your
acceding to my request it is probably that I
shall have to narrate them to you. I have only
just recovered from nine weeks of brain-fever,
and am still exceedingly weak. Do you think that
you could bring your friend Mr. Holmes down to
see me? I should like to have his opinion of the
case, though the authorities assure me that
nothing more can be done. Do try to bring him
down, and as soon as possible. Every minute
seems an hour while I live in this state of
horrible suspense. Assure him that if I have not
asked his advice sooner it was not because I did
not appreciate his talents, but because I have
been off my head ever since the blow fell. Now I
am clear again, though I dare not think of it
too much for fear of a relapse. I am still so
weak that I have to write, as you see, by
dictating. Do try to bring him.
Your old school-fellow,
Percy Phelps.
There was something that touched me as I
read this letter, something pitiable in the
reiterated appeals to bring Holmes. So moved was
I that even had it been a difficult matter I
should have tried it, but of course I knew well
that Holmes loved his art, so that he was ever
as ready to bring his aid as his client could be
to receive it. My wife agreed with me that not a
moment should be lost in laying the matter
before him, and so within an hour of
breakfast-time I found myself back once more in
the old rooms in Baker Street.
Holmes was seated at his side-table clad in
his dressing-gown, and working hard over a
chemical investigation. A large curved retort
was boiling furiously in the bluish flame of a
Bunsen burner, and the distilled drops were
condensing into a two-litre measure. My friend
hardly glanced up as I entered, and I, seeing
that his investigation must be of importance,
seated myself in an arm-chair and waited. He
dipped into this bottle or that, drawing out a
few drops of each with his glass pipette, and
finally brought a test-tube containing a
solution over to the table. In his right hand he
held a slip of litmus-paper.
"You come at a crisis, Watson," said he. "If
this paper remains blue, all is well. If it
turns red, it means a man`s life." He dipped it
into the test-tube and it flushed at once into a
dull, dirty crimson. "Hum! I thought as much!"
he cried. "I will be at your service in an
instant, Watson. You will find tobacco in the
Persian slipper." He turned to his desk and
scribbled off several telegrams, which were
handed over to the page-boy. Then he threw
himself down into the chair opposite, and drew
up his knees until his fingers clasped round his
long, thin shins.
"A very commonplace little murder," said he.
"You`ve got something better, I fancy. You are
the stormy petrel of crime, Watson. What is it?"
I handed him the letter, which he read with
the most concentrated attention.
"It does not tell us very much, does it?" he
remarked, as he handed it back to me.
"Hardly anything."
"And yet the writing is of interest."
"But the writing is not his own."
"Precisely. It is a woman`s."
"A man`s surely," I cried.
"No, a woman`s, and a woman of rare
character. You see, at the commencement of an
investigation it is something to know that your
client is in close contact with some one who,
for good or evil, has an exceptional nature. My
interest is already awakened in the case. If you
are ready we will start at once for Woking, and
see this diplomatist who is in such evil case,
and the lady to whom he dictates his letters."
We were fortunate enough to catch an early
train at Waterloo, and in a little under an hour
we found ourselves among the fir-woods and the
heather of Woking. Briarbrae proved to be a
large detached house standing in extensive
grounds within a few minutes` walk of the
station. On sending in our cards we were shown
into an elegantly appointed drawing-room, where
we were joined in a few minutes by a rather
stout man who received us with much hospitality.
His age may have been nearer forty than thirty,
but his cheeks were so ruddy and his eyes so
merry that he still conveyed the impression of a
plump and mischievous boy.
"I am so glad that you have come," said he,
shaking our hands with effusion. "Percy has been
inquiring for you all morning. Ah, poor old
chap, he clings to any straw! His father and his
mother asked me to see you, for the mere mention
of the subject is very painful to them."
"We have had no details yet," observed
Holmes. "I perceive that you are not yourself a
member of the family."
Our acquaintance looked surprised, and then,
glancing down, he began to laugh.
"Of course you saw the J H monogram on my
locket," said he. "For a moment I thought you
had done something clever. Joseph Harrison is my
name, and as Percy is to marry my sister Annie I
shall at least be a relation by marriage. You
will find my sister in his room, for she has
nursed him hand-and-foot this two months back.
Perhaps we`d better go in at once, for I know
how impatient he is."
The chamber in which we were shown was on the
same floor as the drawing-room. It was furnished
partly as a sitting and partly as a bedroom,
with flowers arranged daintily in every nook and
corner. A young man, very pale and worn, was
lying upon a sofa near the open window, through
which came the rich scent of the garden and the
balmy summer air. A woman was sitting beside
him, who rose as we entered.
"Shall I leave, Percy?" she asked.
He clutched her hand to detain her. "How are
you, Watson?" said he, cordially. "I should
never have known you under that moustache, and I
dare say you would not be prepared to swear to
me. This I presume is your celebrated friend,
Mr. Sherlock Holmes?"
I introduced him in a few words, and we both
sat down. The stout young man had left us, but
his sister still remained with her hand in that
of the invalid. She was a striking-looking
woman, a little short and thick for symmetry,
but with a beautiful olive complexion, large,
dark, Italian eyes, and a wealth of deep black
hair. Her rich tints made the white face of her
companion the more worn and haggard by the
contrast.
"I won`t waste your time," said he, raising
himself upon the sofa. "I`ll plunge into the
matter without further preamble. I was a happy
and successful man, Mr. Holmes, and on the eve
of being married, when a sudden and dreadful
misfortune wrecked all my prospects in life.
"I was, as Watson may have told you, in the
Foreign Office, and through the influences of my
uncle, Lord Holdhurst, I rose rapidly to a
responsible position. When my uncle became
foreign minister in this administration he gave
me several missions of trust, and as I always
brought them to a successful conclusion, he came
at last to have the utmost confidence in my
ability and tact.
"Nearly ten weeks ago--to be more accurate,
on the 23d of May--he called me into his private
room, and, after complimenting me on the good
work which I had done, he informed me that he
had a new commission of trust for me to execute.
"`This,` said he, taking a gray roll of paper
from his bureau, `is the original of that secret
treaty between England and Italy of which, I
regret to say, some rumors have already got into
the public press. It is of enormous importance
that nothing further should leak out. The French
or the Russian embassy would pay an immense sum
to learn the contents of these papers. They
should not leave my bureau were it not that it
is absolutely necessary to have them copied. You
have a desk in your office?"
"`Yes, sir.`
"`Then take the treaty and lock it up there.
I shall give directions that you may remain
behind when the others go, so that you may copy
it at your leisure without fear of being
overlooked. When you have finished, relock both
the original and the draft in the desk, and hand
them over to me personally to-morrow morning.`
"I took the papers and--"
"Excuse me an instant," said Holmes. "Were
you alone during this conversation?"
"Absolutely."
"In a large room?"
"Thirty feet each way."
"In the centre?"
"Yes, about it."
"And speaking low?"
"My uncle`s voice is always remarkably low. I
hardly spoke at all."
"Thank you," said Holmes, shutting his eyes;
"pray go on."
"I did exactly what he indicated, and waited
until the other clerks had departed. One of them
in my room, Charles Gorot, had some arrears of
work to make up, so I left him there and went
out to dine. When I returned he was gone. I was
anxious to hurry my work, for I knew that
Joseph--the Mr. Harrison whom you saw just
now--was in town, and that he would travel down
to Woking by the eleven-o`clock train, and I
wanted if possible to catch it.
"When I came to examine the treaty I saw at
once that it was of such importance that my
uncle had been guilty of no exaggeration in what
he had said. Without going into details, I may
say that it defined the position of Great
Britain towards the Triple Alliance, and
fore-shadowed the policy which this country
would pursue in the event of the French fleet
gaining a complete ascendancy over that of Italy
in the Mediterranean. The questions treated in
it were purely naval. At the end were the
signatures of the high dignitaries who had
signed it. I glanced my eyes over it, and then
settled down to my task of copying.
"It was a long document, written in the
French language, and containing twenty-six
separate articles. I copied as quickly as I
could, but at nine o`clock I had only done nine
articles, and it seemed hopeless for me to
attempt to catch my train. I was feeling drowsy
and stupid, partly from my dinner and also from
the effects of a long day`s work. A cup of
coffee would clear my brain. A commissionnaire
remains all night in a little lodge at the foot
of the stairs, and is in the habit of making
coffee at his spirit-lamp for any of the
officials who may be working over time. I rang
the bell, therefore, to summon him.
"To my surprise, it was a woman who answered
the summons, a large, coarse-faced, elderly
woman, in an apron. She explained that she was
the commissionnaire`s wife, who did the charing,
and I gave her the order for the coffee.
"I wrote two more articles and then, feeling
more drowsy than ever, I rose and walked up and
down the room to stretch my legs. My coffee had
not yet come, and I wondered what was the cause
of the delay could be. Opening the door, I
started down the corridor to find out. There was
a straight passage, dimly lighted, which led
from the room in which I had been working, and
was the only exit from it. It ended in a curving
staircase, with the commissionnaire`s lodge in
the passage at the bottom. Half way down this
staircase is a small landing, with another
passage running into it at right angles. This
second one leads by means of a second small
stair to a side door, used by servants, and also
as a short cut by clerks when coming from
Charles Street. Here is a rough chart of the
place."
"Thank you. I think that I quite follow you,"
said Sherlock Holmes.
"It is of the utmost importance that you
should notice this point. I went down the stairs
and into the hall, where I found the
commissionnaire fast asleep in his box, with the
kettle boiling furiously upon the spirit-lamp. I
took off the kettle and blew out the lamp, for
the water was spurting over the floor. Then I
put out my hand and was about to shake the man,
who was still sleeping soundly, when a bell over
his head rang loudly, and he woke with a start.
"`Mr. Phelps, sir!` said he, looking at me in
bewilderment.
"`I came down to see if my coffee was ready.`
"`I was boiling the kettle when I fell
asleep, sir.` He looked at me and then up at the
still quivering bell with an ever-growing
astonishment upon his face.
"`If you was here, sir, then who rang the
bell?` he asked.
"`The bell!` I cried. `What bell is it?`
"`It`s the bell of the room you were working
in.`
"A cold hand seemed to close round my heart.
Some one, then, was in that room where my
precious treaty lay upon the table. I ran
frantically up the stair and along the passage.
There was no one in the corridors, Mr. Holmes.
There was no one in the room. All was exactly as
I left it, save only that the papers which had
been committed to my care had been taken from
the desk on which they lay. The copy was there,
and the original was gone."
Holmes sat up in his chair and rubbed his
hands. I could see that the problem was entirely
to his heart. "Pray, what did you do then?" he
murmured.
"I recognized in an instant that the thief
must have come up the stairs from the side door.
Of course I must have met him if he had come the
other way."
"You were satisfied that he could not have
been concealed in the room all the time, or in
the corridor which you have just described as
dimly lighted?"
"It is absolutely impossible. A rat could not
conceal himself either in the room or the
corridor. There is no cover at all."
"Thank you. Pray proceed."
"The commissionnaire, seeing by my pale face
that something was to be feared, had followed me
upstairs. Now we both rushed along the corridor
and down the steep steps which led to Charles
Street. The door at the bottom was closed, but
unlocked. We flung it open and rushed out. I can
distinctly remember that as we did so there came
three chimes from a neighboring clock. It was
quarter to ten."
"That is of enormous importance," said
Holmes, making a note upon his shirt-cuff.
"The night was very dark, and a thin, warm
rain was falling. There was no one in Charles
Street, but a great traffic was going on, as
usual, in Whitehall, at the extremity. We rushed
along the pavement, bare-headed as we were, and
at the far corner we found a policeman standing.
"`A robbery has been committed,` I gasped. `A
document of immense value has been stolen from
the Foreign Office. Has any one passed this
way?`
"`I have been standing here for a quarter of
an hour, sir,` said he; `only one person has
passed during that time--a woman, tall and
elderly, with a Paisley shawl.`
"`Ah, that is only my wife,` cried the
commissionnaire; `has no one else passed?`
"`No one.`
"`Then it must be the other way that the
thief took,` cried the fellow, tugging at my
sleeve.
"`But I was not satisfied, and the attempts
which he made to draw me away increased my
suspicions.
"`Which way did the woman go?` I cried.
"`I don`t know, sir. I noticed her pass, but
I had no special reason for watching her. She
seemed to be in a hurry.`
"`How long ago was it?`
"`Oh, not very many minutes.`
"`Within the last five?`
"`Well, it could not be more than five.`
"`You`re only wasting your time, sir, and
every minute now is of importance,` cried the
commissionnaire; `take my word for it that my
old woman has nothing to do with it, and come
down to the other end of the street. Well, if
you won`t, I will.` And with that he rushed off
in the other direction.
"But I was after him in an instant and caught
him by the sleeve.
"`Where do you live?` said I.
"`16 Ivy Lane, Brixton,` he answered. `But
don`t let yourself be drawn away upon a false
scent, Mr. Phelps. Come to the other end of the
street and let us see if we can hear of
anything.`
"Nothing was to be lost by following his
advice. With the policeman we both hurried down,
but only to find the street full of traffic,
many people coming and going, but all only too
eager to get to a place of safety upon so wet a
night. There was no lounger who could tell us
who had passed.
"Then we returned to the office, and searched
the stairs and the passage without result. The
corridor which led to the room was laid down
with a kind of creamy linoleum which shows an
impression very easily. We examined it very
carefully, but found no outline of any
footmark."
"Had it been raining all evening?"
"Since about seven."
"How is it, then, that the woman who came
into the room about nine left no traces with her
muddy boots?"
"I am glad you raised the point. It occurred
to me at the time. The charwomen are in the
habit of taking off their boots at the
commissionnaire`s office, and putting on list
slippers."
"That is very clear. There were no marks,
then, though the night was a wet one? The chain
of events is certainly one of extraordinary
interest. What did you do next?
"We examined the room also. There is no
possibility of a secret door, and the windows
are quite thirty feet from the ground. Both of
them were fastened on the inside. The carpet
prevents any possibility of a trap-door, and the
ceiling is of the ordinary whitewashed kind. I
will pledge my life that whoever stole my papers
could only have come through the door."
"How about the fireplace?"
"They use none. There is a stove. The
bell-rope hangs from the wire just to the right
of my desk. Whoever rang it must have come right
up to the desk to do it. But why should any
criminal wish to ring the bell? It is a most
insoluble mystery."
""Certainly the incident was unusual. What
were your next steps? You examined the room, I
presume, to see if the intruder had left any
traces--any cigar-end or dropped glove or
hairpin or other trifle?"
"There was nothing of the sort."
"No smell?"
"Well, we never thought of that."
"Ah, a scent of tobacco would have been worth
a great deal to us in such an investigation."
"I never smoke myself, so I think I should
have observed it if there had been any smell of
tobacco. There was absolutely no clue of any
kind. The only tangible fact was that the
commissionnaire`s wife-Mrs. Tangey was the
name--had hurried out of the place. He could
give no explanation save that it was about the
time when the woman always went home. The
policeman and I agreed that our best plan would
be to seize the woman before she could get rid
of the papers, presuming that she had them.
"The alarm had reached Scotland Yard by this
time, and Mr. Forbes, the detective, came round
at once and took up the case with a great deal
of energy. We hired a hansom, and in half an
hour we were at the address which had been given
to us. A young woman opened the door, who proved
to be Mrs. Tangey`s eldest daughter. Her mother
had not come back yet, and we were shown into
the front room to wait.
"About ten minutes later a knock came at the
door, and here we made the one serious mistake
for which I blame myself. Instead of opening the
door ourselves, we allowed the girl to do so. We
heard her say, `Mother, there are two men in the
house waiting to see you,` and an instant
afterwards we heard the patter of feet rushing
down the passage. Forbes flung open the door,
and we both ran into the back room or kitchen,
but the woman had got there before us. She
stared at us with defiant eyes, and then,
suddenly recognizing me, an expression of
absolute astonishment came over her face.
"`Why, if it isn`t Mr. Phelps, of the
office!` she cried.
"`Come, come, who did you think we were when
you ran away from us?` asked my companion.
"`I thought you were the brokers,` said she,
`we have had some trouble with a tradesman.`
"`That`s not quite good enough,` answered
Forbes. `We have reason to believe that you have
taken a paper of importance fro the Foreign
Office, and that you ran in here to dispose of
it. You must come back with us to Scotland Yard
to be searched.`
"It was in vain that she protested and
resisted. A four-wheeler was brought, and we all
three drove back in it. We had first made an
examination of the kitchen, and especially of
the kitchen fire, to see whether she might have
made away with the papers during the instant
that she was alone. There were no signs,
however, of any ashes or scraps. When we reached
Scotland Yard she was handed over at once to the
female searcher. I waited in an agony of
suspense until she came back with her report.
There were no signs of the papers.
"Then for the first time the horror of my
situation came in its full force. Hitherto I had
been acting, and action had numbed thought. I
had been so confident of regaining the treaty at
once that I had not dared to think of what would
be the consequence if I failed to do so. But now
there was nothing more to be done, and I had
leisure to realize my position. It was horrible.
Watson there would tell you that I was a
nervous, sensitive boy at school. It is my
nature. I thought of my uncle and of his
colleagues in the Cabinet, of the shame which I
had brought upon him, upon myself, upon every
one connected with me. What though I was the
victim of an extraordinary accident? No
allowance is made for accidents where diplomatic
interests are at stake. I was ruined,
shamefully, hopelessly ruined. I don`t know what
I did. I fancy I must have made a scene. I have
a dim recollection of a group of officials who
crowded round me, endeavoring to soothe me. One
of them drove down with me to Waterloo, and saw
me into the Woking train. I believe that he
would have come all the way had it not been that
Dr. Ferrier, who lives near me, was going down
by that very train. The doctor most kindly took
charge of me, and it was well he did so, for I
had a fit in the station, and before we reached
home I was practically a raving maniac.
"You can imagine the state of things here
when they were roused from their beds by the
doctor`s ringing and found me in this condition.
Poor Annie here and my mother were
broken-hearted. Dr. Ferrier had just heard
enough from the detective at the station to be
able to give an idea of what had happened, and
his story did not mend matters. It was evident
to all that I was in for a long illness, so
Joseph was bundled out of this cheery bedroom,
and it was turned into a sick-room for me. Here
I have lain, Mr. Holmes, for over nine weeks,
unconscious, and raving with brain-fever. If it
had not been for Miss Harrison here and for the
doctor`s care I should not be speaking to you
now. She has nursed me by day and a hired nurse
has looked after me by night, for in my mad fits
I was capable of anything. Slowly my reason has
cleared, but it is only during the last three
days that my memory has quite returned.
Sometimes I wish that it never had. The first
thing that I did was to wire to Mr. Forbes, who
had the case in hand. He came out, and assures
me that, though everything has been done, no
trace of a clue has been discovered. The
commissionnaire and his wife have been examined
in every way without any light being thrown upon
the matter. The suspicions of the police then
rested upon young Gorot, who, as you may
remember, stayed over time in the office that
night. His remaining behind and his French name
were really the only two points which could
suggest suspicion; but, as a matter of fact, I
did not begin work until he had gone, and his
people are of Huguenot extraction, but as
English in sympathy and tradition as you and I
are. Nothing was found to implicate him in any
way, and there the matter dropped. I turn to
you, Mr. Holmes, as absolutely my last hope. If
you fail me, then my honor as well as my
position are forever forfeited."
The invalid sank back upon his cushions,
tired out by this long recital, while his nurse
poured him out a glass of some stimulating
medicine. Holmes sat silently, with his head
thrown back and his eyes closed, in an attitude
which might seem listless to a stranger, but
which I knew betokened the most intense
self-absorption.
"You statement has been so explicit," said he
at last, "that you have really left me very few
questions to ask. There is one of the very
utmost importance, however. Did you tell any one
that you had this special task to perform?"
"No one."
"Not Miss Harrison here, for example?"
"No. I had not been back to Woking between
getting the order and executing the commission."
"And none of your people had by chance been
to see you?"
"None."
"Did any of them know their way about in the
office?"
"Oh, yes, all of them had been shown over
it."
"Still, of course, if you said nothing to any
one about the treaty these inquiries are
irrelevant."
"I said nothing."
"Do you know anything of the
commissionnaire?"
"Nothing except that he is an old soldier."
"What regiment?"
"Oh, I have heard--Coldstream Guards."
"Thank you. I have no doubt I can get details
from Forbes. The authorities are excellent at
amassing facts, though they do not always use
them to advantage. What a lovely thing a rose
is!"
He walked past the couch to the open window,
and held up the drooping stalk of a moss-rose,
looking down at the dainty blend of crimson and
green. It was a new phase of his character to
me, for I had never before seen him show any
keen interest in natural objects.
"There is nothing in which deduction is so
necessary as in religion," said he, leaning with
his back against the shutters. "It can be built
up as an exact science by the reasoner. Our
highest assurance of the goodness of Providence
seems to me to rest in the flowers. All other
things, our powers our desires, our food, are
all really necessary for our existence in the
first instance. But this rose is an extra. Its
smell and its color are an embellishment of
life, not a condition of it. It is only goodness
which gives extras, and so I say again that we
have much to hope from the flowers.
Percy Phelps and his nurse looked at Holmes
during this demonstration with surprise and a
good deal of disappointment written upon their
faces. He had fallen into a reverie, with the
moss-rose between his fingers. It had lasted
some minutes before the young lady broke in upon
it.
"Do you see any prospect of solving this
mystery, Mr. Holmes?" she asked, with a touch of
asperity in her voice.
"Oh, the mystery!" he answered, coming back
with a start to the realities of life. "Well, it
would be absurd to deny that the case is a very
abstruse and complicated one, but I can promise
you that I will look into the matter and let you
know any points which may strike me."
"Do you see any clue?"
"You have furnished me with seven, but, of
course, I must test them before I can pronounce
upon their value."
"You suspect some one?"
"I suspect myself."
"What!"
"Of coming to conclusions too rapidly."
"Then go to London and test your
conclusions."
"Your advice is very excellent, Miss
Harrison," said Holmes, rising. "I think,
Watson, we cannot do better. Do not allow
yourself to indulge in false hopes, Mr. Phelps.
The affair is a very tangled one."
"I shall be in a fever until I see you
again," cried the diplomatist.
"Well, I`ll come out be the same train
to-morrow, though it`s more than likely that my
report will be a negative one."
"God bless you for promising to come," cried
our client. "It gives me fresh life to know that
something is being done. By the way, I have had
a letter from Lord Holdhurst."
"Ha! What did he say?"
"He was cold, but not harsh. I dare say my
severe illness prevented him from being that. He
repeated that the matter was of the utmost
importance, and added that no steps would be
taken about my future--by which he means, of
course, my dismissal--until my health was
restored and I had an opportunity of repairing
my misfortune."
"Well, that was reasonable and considerate,"
said Holmes. "Come, Watson, for we have a goody
day`s work before us in town."
Mr. Joseph Harrison drove us down to the
station, and we were soon whirling up in a
Portsmouth train. Holmes was sunk in profound
thought, and hardly opened his mouth until we
had passed Clapham Junction.
"It`s a very cheery thing to come into London
by any of these lines which run high, and allow
you to look down upon the houses like this."
I thought he was joking, for the view was
sordid enough, but he soon explained himself.
"Look at those big, isolated clumps of
building rising up above the slates, like brick
islands in a lead-colored sea."
"The board-schools."
"Light-houses, my boy! Beacons of the future!
Capsules with hundreds of bright little seeds in
each, out of which will spring the wise, better
England of the future. I suppose that man Phelps
does not drink?"
"I should not think so."
"Nor should I, but we are bound to take every
possibility into account. The poor devil has
certainly got himself into very deep water, and
it`s a question whether we shall ever be able to
get him ashore. What did you think of Miss
Harrison?"
"A girl of strong character."
"Yes, but she is a good sort, or I am
mistaken. She and her brother are the only
children of an iron-master somewhere up
Northumberland way. He got engaged to her when
traveling last winter, and she came down to be
introduced to his people, with her brother as
escort. Then came the smash, and she stayed on
to nurse her lover, while brother Joseph,
finding himself pretty snug, stayed on too. I`ve
been making a few independent inquiries, you
see. But to-day must be a day of inquiries."
"My practice--" I began.
"Oh, if you find your own cases more
interesting than mine--" said Holmes, with some
asperity.
"I was going to say that my practice could
get along very well for a day or two, since it
is the slackest time in the year."
"Excellent," said he, recovering his
good-humor. "Then we`ll look into this matter
together. I think that we should begin be seeing
Forbes. He can probably tell us all the details
we want until we know from what side the case is
to be approached.
"You said you had a clue?"
"Well, we have several, but we can only test
their value by further inquiry. The most
difficult crime to track is the one which is
purposeless. Now this is not purposeless. Who is
it who profits by it? There is the French
ambassador, there is the Russian, there is
who-ever might sell it to either of these, and
there is Lord Holdhurst."
"Lord Holdhurst!"
"Well, it is just conceivable that a
statesman might find himself in a position where
he was not sorry to have such a document
accidentally destroyed."
"Not a statesman with the honorable record of
Lord Holdhurst?"
"It is a possibility and we cannot afford to
disregard it. We shall see the noble lord to-day
and find out if he can tell us anything.
Meanwhile I have already set inquiries on foot."
"Already?"
"Yes, I sent wires from Woking station to
every evening paper in London. This
advertisement will appear in each of them."
He handed over a sheet torn from a note-book.
On it was scribbled in pencil: "L10 reward. The
number of the cab which dropped a fare at or
about the door of the Foreign Office in Charles
Street at quarter to ten in the evening of May
23d. Apply 221 B, Baker Street."
"You are confident that the thief came in a
cab?"
"If not, there is no harm done. But if Mr.
Phelps is correct in stating that there is no
hiding-place either in the room or the
corridors, then the person must have come from
outside. If he came from outside on so wet a
night, and yet left no trace of damp upon the
linoleum, which was examined within a few
minutes of his passing, then it is exceeding
probably that he came in a cab. Yes, I think
that we may safely deduce a cab."
"It sounds plausible."
"That is one of the clues of which I spoke.
It may lead us to something. And then, of
course, there is the bell--which is the most
distinctive feature of the case. Why should the
bell ring? Was it the thief who did it out of
bravado? Or was it some one who was with the
thief who did it in order to prevent the crime?
Or was it an accident? Or was it--?" He sank
back into the state of intense and silent
thought from which he had emerged; but it seemed
to me, accustomed as I was to his every mood,
that some new possibility had dawned suddenly
upon him.
It was twenty past three when we reached our
terminus, and after a hasty luncheon at the
buffet we pushed on at once to Scotland Yard.
Holmes had already wired to Forbes, and we found
him waiting to receive us--a small, foxy man
with a sharp but by no means amiable expression.
He was decidedly frigid in his manner to us,
especially when he heard the errand upon which
we had come.
"I`ve heard of your methods before now, Mr.
Holmes," said he, tartly. "You are ready enough
to use all the information that the police can
lay at your disposal, and then you try to finish
the case yourself and bring discredit on them."
"On the contrary," said Holmes, "out of my
last fifty-three cases my name has only appeared
in four, and the police have had all the credit
in forty-nine. I don`t blame you for not knowing
this, for you are young and inexperienced, but
if you wish to get on in your new duties you
will work with me and not against me."
"I`d be very glad of a hint or two," said the
detective, changing his manner. "I`ve certainly
had no credit from the case so far."
"What steps have you taken?"
"Tangey, the commissionnaire, has been
shadowed. He left the Guards with a good
character and we can find nothing against him.
His wife is a bad lot, though. I fancy she knows
more about this than appears."
"Have you shadowed her?"
"We have set one of our women on to her. Mrs.
Tangey drinks, and our woman has been with her
twice when she was well on, but she could get
nothing out of her."
"I understand that they have had brokers in
the house?"
"Yes, but they were paid off."
"Where did the money come from?"
"That was all right. His pension was due.
They have not shown any sign of being in funds."
"What explanation did she give of having
answered the bell when Mr. Phelps rang for the
coffee?"
"She said that he husband was very tired and
she wished to relieve him."
"Well, certainly that would agree with his
being found a little later asleep in his chair.
There is nothing against them then but the
woman`s character. Did you ask her why she
hurried away that night? Her haste attracted the
attention of the police constable."
"She was later than usual and wanted to get
home."
"Did you point out to her that you and Mr.
Phelps, who started at least twenty minutes
after he, got home before her?"
"She explains that by the difference between
a `bus and a hansom."
"Did she make it clear why, on reaching her
house, she ran into the back kitchen?"
"Because she had the money there with which
to pay off the brokers."
"She has at least an answer for everything.
Did you ask her whether in leaving she met any
one or saw any one loitering about Charles
Street?"
"She saw no one but the constable."
"Well, you seem to have cross-examined her
pretty thoroughly. What else have you done?"
"The clerk Gorot has been shadowed all these
nine weeks, but without result. We can show
nothing against him."
"Anything else?"
"Well, we have nothing else to go upon--no
evidence of any kind."
"Have you formed a theory about how that bell
rang?"
"Well, I must confess that it beats me. It
was a cool hand, whoever it was, to go and give
the alarm like that."
"Yes, it was queer thing to do. Many thanks
to you for what you have told me. If I can put
the man into your hands you shall hear from me.
Come along, Watson."
"Where are we going to now?" I asked, as we
left the office.
"We are now going to interview Lord
Holdhurst, the cabinet minister and future
premier of England."
We were fortunate in finding that Lord
Holdhurst was still in his chambers in Downing
Street, and on Holmes sending in his card we
were instantly shown up. The statesman received
us with that old-fashioned courtesy for which he
is remarkable, and seated us on the two
luxuriant lounges on either side of the
fireplace. Standing on the rug between us, with
his slight, tall figure, his sharp features,
thoughtful face, and curling hair prematurely
tinged with gray, he seemed to represent that
not to common type, a nobleman who is in truth
noble.
"Your name is very familiar to me, Mr.
Holmes," said he, smiling. "And, of course, I
cannot pretend to be ignorant of the object of
your visit. There has only been one occurrence
in these offices which could call for your
attention. In whose interest are you acting, may
I ask?"
"In that of Mr. Percy Phelps," answered
Holmes.
"Ah, my unfortunate nephew! You can
understand that our kinship makes it the more
impossible for me to screen him in any way. I
fear that the incident must have a very
prejudicial effect upon his career."
"But if the document is found?"
"Ah, that, of course, would be different."
"I had one or two questions which I wished to
ask you, Lord Holdhurst."
"I shall be happy to give you any information
in my power."
"Was it in this room that you gave your
instructions as to the copying of the document?"
"It was."
"Then you could hardly have been overheard?"
"It is out of the question."
"Did you ever mention to any one that it was
your intention to give any one the treaty to be
copied?"
"Never."
"You are certain of that?"
"Absolutely."
"Well, since you never said so, and Mr.
Phelps never said so, and nobody else knew
anything of the matter, then the thief`s
presence in the room was purely accidental. He
saw his chance and he took it."
The statesman smiled. "You take me out of my
province there," said he.
Holmes considered for a moment. "There is
another very important point which I wish to
discuss with you," said he. "You feared, as I
understand, that very grave results might follow
from the details of this treaty becoming known."
A shadow passed over the expressive face of
the statesman. "Very grave results indeed."
"Any have they occurred?"
"Not yet."
"If the treaty had reached, let us say, the
French or Russian Foreign Office, you would
expect to hear of it?"
"I should," said Lord Holdhurst, with a wry
face.
"Since nearly ten weeks have elapsed, then,
and nothing has been heard, it is not unfair to
suppose that for some reason the treaty has not
reached them."
Lord Holdhurst shrugged his shoulders.
"We can hardly suppose, Mr. Holmes, that the
thief took the treaty in order to frame it and
hang it up."
"Perhaps he is waiting for a better price."
"If he waits a little longer he will get no
price at all. The treaty will cease to be secret
in a few months."
"That is most important," said Holmes. "Of
course, it is a possible supposition that the
thief has had a sudden illness--"
"An attack of brain-fever, for example?"
asked the statesman, flashing a swift glance at
him.
"I did not say so," said Holmes,
imperturbably. "And now, Lord Holdhurst, we have
already taken up too much of your valuable time,
and we shall wish you good-day."
"Every success to your investigation, be the
criminal who it may," answered the nobleman, as
he bowed us out the door.
"He`s a fine fellow," said Holmes, as we came
out into Whitehall. "But he has a struggle to
keep up his position. He is far from rich and
has many calls. You noticed, of course, that his
boots had been resoled. Now, Watson, I won`t
detain you from your legitimate work any longer.
I shall do nothing more to-day, unless I have an
answer to my cab advertisement. But I should be
extremely obliged to you if you would come down
with me to Woking to-morrow, by the same train
which we took yesterday."
I met him accordingly next morning and we
traveled down to Woking together. He had had no
answer to his advertisement, he said, and no
fresh light had been thrown upon the case. He
had, when he so willed it, the utter immobility
of countenance of a red Indian, and I could not
gather from his appearance whether he was
satisfied or not with the position of the case.
His conversation, I remember, was about the
Bertillon system of measurements, and he
expressed his enthusiastic admiration of the
French savant.
We found our client still under the charge of
his devoted nurse, but looking considerably
better than before. He rose from the sofa and
greeted us without difficulty when we entered.
"Any news?" he asked, eagerly.
"My report, as I expected, is a negative
one," said Holmes. "I have seen Forbes, and I
have seen your uncle, and I have set one or two
trains of inquiry upon foot which may lead to
something."
"You have not lost heart, then?"
"By no means."
"God bless you for saying that!" cried Miss
Harrison. "If we keep our courage and our
patience the truth must come out."
"We have more to tell you than you have for
us," said Phelps, reseating himself upon the
couch.
"I hoped you might have something."
"Yes, we have had an adventure during the
night, and one which might have proved to be a
serious one." His expression grew very grave as
he spoke, and a look of something akin to fear
sprang up in his eyes. "Do you know," said he,
"that I begin to believe that I am the
unconscious centre of some monstrous conspiracy,
and that my life is aimed at as well as my
honor?"
"Ah!" cried Holmes.
"It sounds incredible, for I have not, as far
as I know, an enemy in the world. Yet from last
night`s experience I can come to no other
conclusion."
"Pray let me hear it."
"You must know that last night was the very
first night that I have ever slept without a
nurse in the room. I was so much better that I
thought I could dispense with one. I had a
night-light burning, however. Well, about two in
the morning I had sunk into a light sleep when I
was suddenly aroused by a slight noise. It was
like the sound which a mouse makes when it is
gnawing a plank, and I lay listening to it for
some time under the impression that it must come
from that cause. Then it grew louder, and
suddenly there came from the window a sharp
metallic snick. I sat up in amazement. There
could be no doubt what the sounds were now. The
first ones had been caused by some one forcing
an instrument through the slit between the
sashes, and the second by the catch being
pressed back.
"There was a pause then for about ten
minutes, as if the person were waiting to see
whether the noise had awakened me. Then I heard
a gentle creaking as the window was very slowly
opened. I could stand it no longer, for my
nerves are not what they used to be. I sprang
out of bed and flung open the shutters. A man
was crouching at the window. I could see little
of him, for he was gone like a flash. He was
wrapped in some sort of cloak which came across
the lower part of his face. One thing only I am
sure of, and that is that he had some weapon in
his hand. It looked to me like a long knife. I
distinctly saw the gleam of it as he turned to
run."
"This is most interesting," said Holmes.
"Pray what did you do then?"
"I should have followed him through the open
window if I had been stronger. As it was, I rang
the bell and roused the house. It took me some
little time, for the bell rings in the kitchen
and the servants all sleep upstairs. I shouted,
however, and that brought Joseph down, and he
roused the others. Joseph and the groom found
marks on the bed outside the window, but the
weather has been so dry lately that they found
it hopeless to follow the trail across the
grass. There`s a place, however, on the wooden
fence which skirts the road which shows signs,
they tell me, as if some one had got over, and
had snapped the top of the rail in doing so. I
have said nothing to the local police yet, for I
thought I had best have your opinion first."
This tale of our client`s appeared to have an
extraordinary effect upon Sherlock Holmes. He
rose from his chair and paced about the room in
uncontrollable excitement.
"Misfortunes never come single," said Phelps,
smiling, though it was evident that his
adventure had somewhat shaken him.
"You have certainly had your share," said
Holmes. "Do you think you could walk round the
house with me?"
"Oh, yes, I should like a little sunshine.
Joseph will come, too."
"And I also," said Miss Harrison.
"I am afraid not," said Holmes, shaking his
head. "I think I must ask you to remain sitting
exactly where you are."
The young lady resumed her seat with an air
of displeasure. Her brother, however, had joined
us and we set off all four together. We passed
round the lawn to the outside of the young
diplomatist`s window. There were, as he had
said, marks upon the bed, but they were
hopelessly blurred and vague. Holmes stopped
over them for an instant, and then rose
shrugging his shoulders.
"I don`t think any one could make much of
this," said he. "Let us go round the house and
see why this particular room was chose by the
burglar. I should have thought those larger
windows of the drawing-room and dining-room
would have had more attractions for him."
"They are more visible from the road,"
suggested Mr. Joseph Harrison.
"Ah, yes, of course. There is a door here
which he might have attempted. What is it for?"
"It is the side entrance for trades-people.
Of course it is locked at night."
"Have you ever had an alarm like this
before?"
"Never," said our client.
"Do you keep plate in the house, or anything
to attract burglars?"
"Nothing of value."
Holmes strolled round the house with his
hands in his pockets and a negligent air which
was unusual with him.
"By the way," said he to Joseph Harrison,
"you found some place, I understand, where the
fellow scaled the fence. Let us have a look at
that!"
The plump young man led us to a spot where
the top of one of the wooden rails had been
cracked. A small fragment of the wood was
hanging down. Holmes pulled it off and examined
it critically.
"Do you think that was done last night? It
looks rather old, does it not?"
"Well, possibly so."
"There are no marks of any one jumping down
upon the other side. No, I fancy we shall get no
help here. Let us go back to the bedroom and
talk the matter over."
Percy Phelps was walking very slowly, leaning
upon the arm of his future brother-in-law.
Holmes walked swiftly across the lawn, and we
were at the open window of the bedroom long
before the others came up.
"Miss Harrison," said Holmes, speaking with
the utmost intensity of manner, "you must stay
where you are all day. Let nothing prevent you
from staying where you are all day. It is of the
utmost importance."
"Certainly, if you wish it, Mr. Holmes," said
the girl in astonishment.
"When you go to bed lock the door of this
room on the outside and keep the key. Promise to
do this."
"But Percy?"
"He will come to London with us."
"And am I to remain here?"
"It is for his sake. You can serve him.
Quick! Promise!"
She gave a quick nod of assent just as the
other two came up.
"Why do you sit moping there, Annie?" cried
her brother. "Come out into the sunshine!"
"No, thank you, Joseph. I have a slight
headache and this room is deliciously cool and
soothing."
"What do you propose now, Mr. Holmes?" asked
our client.
"Well, in investigating this minor affair we
must not lose sight of our main inquiry. It
would be a very great help to me if you would
come up to London with us."
"At once?"
"Well, as soon as you conveniently can. Say
in an hour."
"I feel quite strong enough, if I can really
be of any help."
"The greatest possible."
"Perhaps you would like me the stay there
to-night?"
"I was just going to propose it."
"Then, if my friend of the night comes to
revisit me, he will find the bird flown. We are
all in your hands, Mr. Holmes, and you must tell
us exactly what you would like done. Perhaps you
would prefer that Joseph came with us so as to
look after me?"
"Oh, no; my friend Watson is a medical man,
you know, and he`ll look after you. We`ll have
our lunch here, if you will permit us, and then
we shall all three set off for town together."
It was arranged as he suggested, though Miss
Harrison excused herself from leaving the
bedroom, in accordance with Holmes`s suggestion.
What the object of my friend`s manoeuvres was I
could not conceive, unless it were to keep the
lady away from Phelps, who, rejoiced by his
returning health and by the prospect of action,
lunched with us in the dining-room. Holmes had
still more startling surprise for us, however,
for, after accompanying us down to the station
and seeing us into our carriage, he calmly
announced that he had no intention of leaving
Woking.
"There are one or two small points which I
should desire to clear up before I go," said he.
"Your absence, Mr. Phelps, will in some ways
rather assist me. Watson, when you reach London
you would oblige me by driving at once to Baker
Street with our friend here, and remaining with
him until I see you again. It is fortunate that
you are old school-fellows, as you must have
much to talk over. Mr. Phelps can have the spare
bedroom to-night, and I will be with you in time
for breakfast, for there is a train which will
take me into Waterloo at eight."
"But how about our investigation in London?"
asked Phelps, ruefully.
"We can do that to-morrow. I think that just
at present I can be of more immediate use here."
"You might tell them at Briarbrae that I hope
to be back to-morrow night," cried Phelps, as we
began to move from the platform.
"I hardly expect to go back to Briarbrae,"
answered Holmes, and waved his hand to us
cheerily as we shot out from the station.
Phelps and I talked it over on our journey,
but neither of us could devise a satisfactory
reason for this new development.
"I suppose he wants to find out some clue as
to the burglary last night, if a burglar it was.
For myself, I don`t believe it was an ordinary
thief."
"What is your own idea, then?"
"Upon my word, you may put it down to my weak
nerves or not, but I believe there is some deep
political intrigue going on around me, and that
for some reason that passes my understanding my
life is aimed at by the conspirators. It sounds
high-flown and absurd, but consider the fats!
Why should a thief try to break in at a bedroom
window, where there could be no hope of any
plunder, and why should he come with a long
knife in his hand?"
"You are sure it was not a house-breaker`s
jimmy?"
"Oh, no, it was a knife. I saw the flash of
the blade quite distinctly."
"But why on earth should you be pursued with
such animosity?"
"Ah, that is the question."
"Well, if Holmes takes the same view, that
would account for his action, would it not?
Presuming that your theory is correct, if he can
lay his hands upon the man who threatened you
last night he will have gone a long way towards
finding who took the naval treaty. It is absurd
to suppose that you have two enemies, one of
whom robs you, while the other threatens your
life."
"But Holmes said that he was not going to
Briarbrae."
"I have known him for some time," said I,
"but I never knew him do anything yet without a
very good reason," and with that our
conversation drifted off on to other topics.
But it was a weary day for me. Phelps was
still weak after his long illness, and his
misfortune made him querulous and nervous. In
vain I endeavored to interest him in
Afghanistan, in India, in social questions, in
anything which might take his mind out of the
groove. He would always come back to his lost
treaty, wondering, guessing, speculating, as to
what Holmes was doing, what steps Lord Holdhurst
was taking, what news we should have in the
morning. As the evening wore on his excitement
became quite painful.
"You have implicit faith in Holmes?" he
asked.
"I have seen him do some remarkable things."
"But he never brought light into anything
quite so dark as this?"
"Oh, yes; I have known him solve questions
which presented fewer clues than yours."
"But not where such large interests are at
stake?"
"I don`t know that. To my certain knowledge
he has acted on behalf of three of the reigning
houses of Europe in very vital matters."
"But you know him well, Watson. He is such an
inscrutable fellow that I never quite know what
to make of him. Do you think he is hopeful? Do
you think he expects to make a success of it?"
"He has said nothing."
"That is a bad sign."
"On the contrary, I have noticed that when he
is off the trail he generally says so. It is
when he is on a scent and is not quite
absolutely sure yet that it is the right one
that he is most taciturn. Now, my dear fellow,
we can`t help matters by making ourselves
nervous about them, so let me implore you to go
to bed and so be fresh for whatever may await us
to-morrow."
I was able at last to persuade my companion
to take my advice, though I knew from his
excited manner that there was not much hope of
sleep for him. Indeed, his mood was infectious,
for I lay tossing half the night myself,
brooding over this strange problem, and
inventing a hundred theories, each of which was
more impossible than the last. Why had Holmes
remained at Woking? Why had he asked Miss
Harrison to remain in the sick-room all day? Why
had he been so careful not to inform the people
at Briarbrae that he intended to remain near
them? I cudgelled my brains until I fell asleep
in the endeavor to find some explanation which
would cover all these facts.
It was seven o`clock when I awoke, and I set
off at once for Phelps`s room, to find him
haggard and spent after a sleepless night. His
first question was whether Holmes had arrived
yet.
"He`ll be here when he promised," said I,
"and not an instant sooner or later."
And my words were true, for shortly after
eight a hansom dashed up to the door and our
friend got out of it. Standing in the window we
saw that his left hand was swathed in a bandage
and that his face was very grim and pale. He
entered the house, but it was some little time
before he came upstairs.
"He looks like a beaten man," cried Phelps.
I was forced to confess that he was right.
"After all," said I, "the clue of the matter
lies probably here in town."
Phelps gave a groan.
"I don`t know how it is," said he, "but I had
hoped for so much from his return. But surely
his hand was not tied up like that yesterday.
What can be the matter?"
"You are not wounded, Holmes?" I asked, as my
friend entered the room.
"Tut, it is only a scratch through my own
clumsiness," he answered, nodding his
good-mornings to us. "This case of yours, Mr.
Phelps, is certainly one of the darkest which I
have ever investigated."
"I feared that you would find it beyond you."
"It has been a most remarkable experience."
"That bandage tells of adventures," said I.
"Won`t you tell us what has happened?"
"After breakfast, my dear Watson. Remember
that I have breathed thirty miles of Surrey air
this morning. I suppose that there has been no
answer from my cabman advertisement? Well, well,
we cannot expect to score every time."
The table was all laid, and just as I was
about to ring Mrs. Hudson entered with the tea
and coffee. A few minutes later she brought in
three covers, and we all drew up to the table,
Holmes ravenous, I curious, and Phelps in the
gloomiest state of depression.
"Mrs. Hudson has risen to the occasion," said
Holmes, uncovering a dish of curried chicken.
"Her cuisine is a little limited, but she has as
good an idea of breakfast as a Scotch-woman.
What have you here, Watson?"
"Ham and eggs," I answered.
"Good! What are you going to take, Mr.
Phelps--curried fowl or eggs, or will you help
yourself?"
"Thank you. I can eat nothing," said Phelps.
"Oh, come! Try the dish before you."
"Thank you, I would really rather not."
"Well, then," said Holmes, with a mischievous
twinkle, "I suppose that you have no objection
to helping me?"
Phelps raised the cover, and as he did so he
uttered a scream, and sat there staring with a
face as white as the plate upon which he looked.
Across the centre of it was lying a little
cylinder of blue-gray paper. He caught it up,
devoured it with his eyes, and then danced madly
about the room, passing it to his bosom and
shrieking out in his delight. Then he fell back
into an arm-chair so limp and exhausted with his
own emotions that we had to pour brandy down his
throat to keep him from fainting.
"There! there!" said Holmes, soothing,
patting him upon the shoulder. "It was too bad
to spring it on you like this, but Watson here
will tell you that I never can resist a touch of
the dramatic."
Phelps seized his hand and kissed it. "God
bless you!" he cried. "You have saved my honor."
"Well, my own was at stake, you know," said
Holmes. "I assure you it is just as hateful to
me to fail in a case as it can be to you to
blunder over a commission."
Phelps thrust away the precious document into
the innermost pocket of his coat.
"I have not the heart to interrupt your
breakfast any further, and yet I am dying to
know how you got it and where it was."
Sherlock Holmes swallowed a cup of coffee,
and turned his attention to the ham and eggs.
Then he rose, lit his pipe, and settled himself
down into his chair.
"I`ll tell you what I did first, and how I
came to do it afterwards," said he. "After
leaving you at the station I went for a charming
walk through some admirable Surrey scenery to a
pretty little village called Ripley, where I had
my tea at an inn, and took the precaution of
filling my flask and of putting a paper of
sandwiches in my pocket. There I remained until
evening, when I set off for Woking again, and
found myself in the high-road outside Briarbrae
just after sunset.
"Well, I waited until the road was clear--it
is never a very frequented one at any time, I
fancy--and then I clambered over the fence into
the grounds."
"Surely the gate was open!" ejaculated
Phelps.
"Yes, but I have a peculiar taste in these
matters. I chose the place where the three
fir-trees stand, and behind their screen I got
over without the least chance of any one in the
house being able to see me. I crouched down
among the bushes on the other side, and crawled
from one to the other--witness the disreputable
state of my trouser knees--until I had reached
the clump of rhododendrons just opposite to your
bedroom window. There I squatted down and
awaited developments.
"The blind was not down in your room, and I
could see Miss Harrison sitting there reading by
the table. It was quarter-past ten when she
closed her book, fastened the shutters, and
retired.
"I heard her shut the door, and felt quite
sure that she had turned the key in the lock."
"The key!" ejaculated Phelps.
"Yes; I had given Miss Harrison instructions
to lock the door on the outside and take the key
with her when she went to bed. She carried out
every one of my injunctions to the letter, and
certainly without her cooperation you would not
have that paper in you coat-pocket. She departed
then and the lights went out, and I was left
squatting in the rhododendron-bush.
"The night was fine, but still it was a very
weary vigil. Of course it has the sort of
excitement about it that the sportsman feels
when he lies beside the water-course and waits
for the big game. It was very long,
though--almost as long, Watson, as when you and
I waited in that deadly room when we looked into
the little problem of the Speckled Band. There
was a church-clock down at Woking which struck
the quarters, and I thought more than once that
it had stopped. At last however about two in the
morning, I suddenly heard the gentle sound of a
bolt being pushed back and the creaking of a
key. A moment later the servant`s door was
opened, and Mr. Joseph Harrison stepped out into
the moonlight."
"Joseph!" ejaculated Phelps.
"He was bare-headed, but he had a black coat
thrown over his shoulder so that he could
conceal his face in an instant if there were any
alarm. He walked on tiptoe under the shadow of
the wall, and when he reached the window he
worked a long-bladed knife through the sash and
pushed back the catch. Then he flung open the
window, and putting his knife through the crack
in the shutters, he thrust the bar up and swung
them open.
"From where I lay I had a perfect view of the
inside of the room and of every one of his
movements. He lit the two candles which stood
upon the mantelpiece, and then he proceeded to
turn back the corner of the carpet in the
neighborhood of the door. Presently he stopped
and picked out a square piece of board, such as
is usually left to enable plumbers to get at the
joints of the gas-pipes. This one covered, as a
matter of fact, the T joint which gives off the
pipe which supplies the kitchen underneath. Out
of this hiding-place he drew that little
cylinder of paper, pushed down the board,
rearranged the carpet, blew out the candles, and
walked straight into my arms as I stood waiting
for him outside the window.
"Well, he has rather more viciousness than I
gave him credit for, has Master Joseph. He flew
at me with his knife, and I had to grasp him
twice, and got a cut over the knuckles, before I
had the upper hand of him. He looked murder out
of the only eye he could see with when we had
finished, but he listened to reason and gave up
the papers. Having got them I let my man go, but
I wired full particulars to Forbes this morning.
If he is quick enough to catch is bird, well and
good. But if, as I shrewdly suspect, he finds
the nest empty before he gets there, why, all
the better for the government. I fancy that Lord
Holdhurst for one, and Mr. Percy Phelps for
another, would very much rather that the affair
never got as far as a police-court.
"My God!" gasped our client. "Do you tell me
that during these long ten weeks of agony the
stolen papers were within the very room with me
all the time?"
"So it was."
"And Joseph! Joseph a villain and a thief!"
"Hum! I am afraid Joseph`s character is a
rather deeper and more dangerous one than one
might judge from his appearance. From what I
have heard from him this morning, I gather that
he has lost heavily in dabbling with stocks, and
that he is ready to do anything on earth to
better his fortunes. Being an absolutely selfish
man, when a chance presented itself he did not
allow either his sister`s happiness or your
reputation to hold his hand."
Percy Phelps sank back in his chair. "My head
whirls," said he. "Your words have dazed me."
"The principal difficulty in your case,"
remarked Holmes, in his didactic fashion, "lay
in the fact of there being too much evidence.
What was vital was overlaid and hidden by what
was irrelevant. Of all the facts which were
presented to us we had to pick just those which
we deemed to be essential, and then piece them
together in their order, so as to reconstruct
this very remarkable chain of events. I had
already begun to suspect Joseph, from the fact
that you had intended to travel home with him
that night, and that therefore it was a likely
enough thing that he should call for you,
knowing the Foreign Office well, upon his way.
When I heard that some one had been so anxious
to get into the bedroom, in which no one but
Joseph could have concealed anything--you told
us in your narrative how you had turned Joseph
out when you arrived with the doctor--my
suspicions all changed to certainties,
especially as the attempt was made on the first
night upon which the nurse was absent, showing
that the intruder was well acquainted with the
ways of the house."
"How blind I have been!"
"The facts of the case, as far as I have
worked them out, are these: this Joseph Harrison
entered the office through the Charles Street
door, and knowing his way he walked straight
into your room the instant after you left it.
Finding no one there he promptly rang the bell,
and at the instant that he did so his eyes
caught the paper upon the table. A glance showed
him that chance had put in his way a State
document of immense value, and in an instant he
had thrust it into his pocket and was gone. A
few minutes elapsed, as you remember, before the
sleepy commissionnaire drew your attention to
the bell, and those were just enough to give the
thief time to make his escape.
"He made his way to Woking by the first
train, and having examined his booty and assured
himself that it really was of immense value, he
had concealed it in what he thought was a very
safe place, with the intention of taking it out
again in a day or two, and carrying it to the
French embassy, or wherever he thought that a
long price was to be had. Then came your sudden
return. He, without a moment`s warning, was
bundled out of his room, and from that time
onward there were always at least two of you
there to prevent him from regaining his
treasure. The situation to him must have been a
maddening one. But at last he thought he saw his
chance. He tried to steal in, but was baffled by
your wakefulness. You remember that you did not
take your usual draught that night."
"I remember."
"I fancy that he had taken steps to make that
draught efficacious, and that he quite relied
upon your being unconscious. Of course, I
understood that he would repeat the attempt
whenever it could be done with safety. Your
leaving the room gave him the chance he wanted.
I kept Miss Harrison in it all day so that he
might not anticipate us. Then, having given him
the idea that the coast was clear, I kept guard
as I have described. I already knew that the
papers were probably in the room, but I had no
desire to rip up all the planking and skirting
in search of them. I let him take them,
therefore, from the hiding-place, and so saved
myself an infinity of trouble. Is there any
other point which I can make clear?"
"Why did he try the window on the first
occasion," I asked, "when he might have entered
by the door?"
"In reaching the door he would have to pass
seven bedrooms. On the other hand, he could get
out on to the lawn with ease. Anything else?"
"You do not think," asked Phelps, "that he
had any murderous intention? The knife was only
meant as a tool."
"It may be so," answered Holmes, shrugging
his shoulders. "I can only say for certain that
Mr. Joseph Harrison is a gentleman to whose
mercy I should be extremely unwilling to trust." |
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Adventure XI
The Final Problem
It is with a heavy heart that I take up my pen to write these the last
words in which I shall ever record the singular
gifts by which my friend Mr. Sherlock Holmes was
distinguished. In an incoherent and, as I deeply
feel, an entirely inadequate fashion, I have
endeavored to give some account of my strange
experiences in his company from the chance which
first brought us together at the period of the
"Study in Scarlet," up to the time of his
interference in the matter of the "Naval
Treaty"--and interference which had the
unquestionable effect of preventing a serious
international complication. It was my intention
to have stopped there, and to have said nothing
of that event which has created a void in my
life which the lapse of two years has done
little to fill. My hand has been forced,
however, by the recent letters in which Colonel
James Moriarty defends the memory of his
brother, and I have no choice but to lay the
facts before the public exactly as they
occurred. I alone know the absolute truth of the
matter, and I am satisfied that the time has
come when on good purpose is to be served by its
suppression. As far as I know, there have been
only three accounts in the public press: that in
the Journal de Geneve on May 6th, 1891, the
Reuter`s despatch in the English papers on May
7th, and finally the recent letter to which I
have alluded. Of these the first and second were
extremely condensed, while the last is, as I
shall now show, an absolute perversion of the
facts. It lies with me to tell for the first
time what really took place between Professor
Moriarty and Mr. Sherlock Holmes.
It may be remembered that after my marriage,
and my subsequent start in private practice, the
very intimate relations which had existed
between Holmes and myself became to some extent
modified. He still came to me from time to time
when he desired a companion in his
investigation, but these occasions grew more and
more seldom, until I find that in the year 1890
there were only three cases of which I retain
any record. During the winter of that year and
the early spring of 1891, I saw in the papers
that he had been engaged by the French
government upon a matter of supreme importance,
and I received two notes from Holmes, dated from
Narbonne and from Nimes, from which I gathered
that his stay in France was likely to be a long
one. It was with some surprise, therefore, that
I saw him walk into my consulting-room upon the
evening of April 24th. It struck me that he was
looking even paler and thinner than usual.
"Yes, I have been using myself up rather too
freely," he remarked, in answer to my look
rather than to my words; "I have been a little
pressed of late. Have you any objection to my
closing your shutters?"
The only light in the room came from the lamp
upon the table at which I had been reading.
Holmes edged his way round the wall and flinging
the shutters together, he bolted them securely.
"You are afraid of something?" I asked.
"Well, I am."
"Of what?"
"Of air-guns."
"My dear Holmes, what do you mean?"
"I think that you know me well enough,
Watson, to understand that I am by no means a
nervous man. At the same time, it is stupidity
rather than courage to refuse to recognize
danger when it is close upon you. Might I
trouble you for a match?" He drew in the smoke
of his cigarette as if the soothing influence
was grateful to him.
"I must apologize for calling so late," said
he, "and I must further beg you to be so
unconventional as to allow me to leave your
house presently by scrambling over your back
garden wall."
"But what does it all mean?" I asked.
He held out his hand, and I saw in the light
of the lamp that two of his knuckles were burst
and bleeding.
"It is not an airy nothing, you see," said
he, smiling. "On the contrary, it is solid
enough for a man to break his hand over. Is Mrs.
Watson in?"
"She is away upon a visit."
"Indeed! You are alone?"
"Quite."
"Then it makes it the easier for me to
propose that you should come away with me for a
week to the Continent."
"Where?"
"Oh, anywhere. It`s all the same to me."
There was something very strange in all this.
It was not Holmes`s nature to take an aimless
holiday, and something about his pale, worn face
told me that his nerves were at their highest
tension. He saw the question in my eyes, and,
putting his finger-tips together and his elbows
upon his knees, he explained the situation.
"You have probably never heard of Professor
Moriarty?" said he.
"Never."
"Aye, there`s the genius and the wonder of
the thing!" he cried. "The man pervades London,
and no one has heard of him. That`s what puts
him on a pinnacle in the records of crime. I
tell you, Watson, in all seriousness, that if I
could beat that man, if I could free society of
him, I should feel that my own career had
reached its summit, and I should be prepared to
turn to some more placid line in life. Between
ourselves, the recent cases in which I have been
of assistance to the royal family of
Scandinavia, and to the French republic, have
left me in such a position that I could continue
to live in the quiet fashion which is most
congenial to me, and to concentrate my attention
upon my chemical researches. But I could not
rest, Watson, I could not sit quiet in my chair,
if I thought that such a man as Professor
Moriarty were walking the streets of London
unchallenged."
"What has he done, then?"
"His career has been an extraordinary one. He
is a man of good birth and excellent education,
endowed by nature with a phenomenal mathematical
faculty. At the age of twenty-one he wrote a
treatise upon the Binomial Theorem, which has
had a European vogue. On the strength of it he
won the Mathematical Chair at one of our smaller
universities, and had, to all appearance, a most
brilliant career before him. But the man had
hereditary tendencies of the most diabolical
kind. A criminal strain ran in his blood, which,
instead of being modified, was increased and
rendered infinitely more dangerous by his
extraordinary mental powers. Dark rumors
gathered round him in the university town, and
eventually he was compelled to resign his chair
and to come down to London, where he set up as
an army coach. So much is known to the world,
but what I am telling you now is what I have
myself discovered.
"As you are aware, Watson, there is no one
who knows the higher criminal world of London so
well as I do. For years past I have continually
been conscious of some power behind the
malefactor, some deep organizing power which
forever stands in the way of the law, and throws
its shield over the wrong-doer. Again and again
in cases of the most varying sorts--forgery
cases, robberies, murders--I have felt the
presence of this force, and I have deduced its
action in many of those undiscovered crimes in
which I have not been personally consulted. For
years I have endeavored to break through the
veil which shrouded it, and at last the time
came when I seized my thread and followed it,
until it led me, after a thousand cunning
windings, to ex-Professor Moriarty of
mathematical celebrity.
He is the Napoleon of crime, Watson. He is
the organizer of half that is evil and of nearly
all that is undetected in this great city. He is
a genius, a philosopher, an abstract thinker. He
has a brain of the first order. He sits
motionless, like a spider in the center of its
web, but that web has a thousand radiations, and
he knows well every quiver of each of them. He
does little himself. He only plans. But his
agents are numerous and splendidly organized. Is
there a crime to be done, a paper to be
abstracted, we will say, a house to be rifled, a
man to be removed--the word is passed to the
Professor, the matter is organized and carried
out. The agent may be caught. In that case money
is found for his bail or his defence. But the
central power which uses the agent is never
caught--never so much as suspected. This was the
organization which I deduced, Watson, and which
I devoted my whole energy to exposing and
breaking up.
"But the Professor was fenced round with
safeguards so cunningly devised that, do what I
would, it seemed impossible to get evidence
which would convict in a court of law. You know
my powers, my dear Watson, and yet at the end of
three months I was forced to confess that I had
at last met an antagonist who was my
intellectual equal. My horror at his crimes was
lost in my admiration at his skill. But at last
he made a trip--only a little, little trip--but
it was more than he could afford when I was so
close upon him. I had my chance, and, starting
from that point, I have woven my net round him
until now it is all ready to close. In three
days--that is to say, on Monday next--matters
will be ripe, and the Professor, with all the
principal members of his gang, will be in the
hands of the police. Then will come the greatest
criminal trial of the century, the clearing up
of over forty mysteries, and the rope for all of
them; but if we move at all prematurely, you
understand, they may slip out of our hands even
at the last moment.
"Now, if I could have done this without the
knowledge of Professor Moriarty, all would have
been well. But he was too wily for that. He saw
every step which I took to draw my toils round
him. Again and again he strove to break away,
but I as often headed him off. I tell you, my
friend, that if a detailed account of that
silent contest could be written, it would take
its place as the most brilliant bit of
thrust-and-parry work in the history of
detection. Never have I risen to such a height,
and never have I been so hard pressed by an
opponent. He cut deep, and yet I just undercut
him. This morning the last steps were taken, and
three days only were wanted to complete the
business. I was sitting in my room thinking the
matter over, when the door opened and Professor
Moriarty stood before me.
"My nerves are fairly proof, Watson, but I
must confess to a start when I saw the very man
who had been so much in my thoughts standing
there on my threshhold. His appearance was quite
familiar to me. He is extremely tall and thin,
his forehead domes out in a white curve, and his
two eyes are deeply sunken in this head. He is
clean-shaven, pale, and ascetic-looking,
retaining something of the professor in his
features. His shoulders are rounded from much
study, and his face protrudes forward, and is
forever slowly oscillating from side to side in
a curiously reptilian fashion. He peered at me
with great curiosity in his puckered eyes.
"`You have less frontal development that I
should have expected,` said he, at last. `It is
a dangerous habit to finger loaded firearms in
the pocket of one`s dressing-gown.`
"The fact is that upon his entrance I had
instantly recognized the extreme personal danger
in which I lay. The only conceivable escape for
him lay in silencing my tongue. In an instant I
had slipped the revolved from the drawer into my
pocket, and was covering him through the cloth.
At his remark I drew the weapon out and laid it
cocked upon the table. He still smiled and
blinked, but there was something about his eyes
which made me feel very glad that I had it
there.
"`You evidently don`t now me,` said he.
"`On the contrary,` I answered, `I think it
is fairly evident that I do. Pray take a chair.
I can spare you five minutes if you have
anything to say.`
"`All that I have to say has already crossed
your mind,` said he.
"`Then possibly my answer has crossed yours,`
I replied.
"`You stand fast?`
"`Absolutely.`
"He clapped his hand into his pocket, and I
raised the pistol from the table. But he merely
drew out a memorandum-book in which he had
scribbled some dates.
"`You crossed my patch on the 4th of
January,` said he. `On the 23d you incommoded
me; by the middle of February I was seriously
inconvenienced by you; at the end of March I was
absolutely hampered in my plans; and now, at the
close of April, I find myself placed in such a
position through your continual persecution that
I am in positive danger of losing my liberty.
The situation is becoming an impossible one.`
"`Have you any suggestion to make?` I asked.
"`You must drop it, Mr. Holmes,` said he,
swaying his face about. `You really must, you
know.`
"`After Monday,` said I.
"`Tut, tut,` said he. `I am quite sure that a
man of your intelligence will see that there can
be but one outcome to this affair. It is
necessary that you should withdraw. You have
worked things in such a fashion that we have
only one resource left. It has been an
intellectual treat to me to see the way in which
you have grappled with this affair, and I say,
unaffectedly, that it would be a grief to me to
be forced to take any extreme measure. You
smile, sir, abut I assure you that it really
would.`
"`Danger is part of my trade,` I remarked.
"`That is not danger,` said he. `It is
inevitable destruction. You stand in the way not
merely of an individual, but of a mighty
organization, the full extent of which you, with
all your cleverness, have been unable to
realize. You must stand clear, Mr. Holmes, or be
trodden under foot.`
"`I am afraid,` said I, rising, `that in the
pleasure of this conversation I am neglecting
business of importance which awaits me
elsewhere.`
"He rose also and looked at me in silence,
shaking his head sadly.
"`Well, well,` said he, at last. `It seems a
pity, but I have done what I could. I know every
move of your game. You can do nothing before
Monday. It has been a duel between you and me,
Mr. Holmes. You hope to place me in the dock. I
tell you that I will never stand in the dock.
You hope to beat me. I tell you that you will
never beat me. If you are clever enough to bring
destruction upon me, rest assured that I shall
do as much to you.`
"`You have paid me several compliments, Mr.
Moriarty,` said I. `Let me pay you one in return
when I say that if I were assured of the former
eventuality I would, in the interests of the
public, cheerfully accept the latter.`
"`I can promise you the one, but not the
other,` he snarled, and so turned his rounded
back upon me, and went peering and blinking out
of the room.
"That was my singular interview with
Professor Moriarty. I confess that it left an
unpleasant effect upon my mind. His soft,
precise fashion of speech leaves a conviction of
sincerity which a mere bully could not produce.
Of course, you will say: `Why not take police
precautions against him?` the reason is that I
am well convinced that it is from his agents the
blow will fall. I have the best proofs that it
would be so."
"You have already been assaulted?"
"My dear Watson, Professor Moriarty is not a
man who lets the grass grow under his feet. I
went out about mid-day to transact some business
in Oxford Street. As I passed the corner which
leads from Bentinck Street on to the Welbeck
Street crossing a two-horse van furiously driven
whizzed round and was on me like a flash. I
sprang for the foot-path and saved myself by the
fraction of a second. The van dashed round by
Marylebone Lane and was gone in an instant. I
kept to the pavement after that, Watson, but as
I walked down Vere Street a brick came down from
the roof of one of the houses, and was shattered
to fragments at my feet. I called the police and
had the place examined. There were slates and
bricks piled up on the roof preparatory to some
repairs, and they would have me believe that the
wind had toppled over one of these. Of course I
knew better, but I could prove nothing. I took a
cab after that and reached my brother`s rooms in
Pall Mall, where I spent the day. Now I have
come round to you, and on my way I was attacked
by a rough with a bludgeon. I knocked him down,
and the police have him in custody; but I can
tell you with the most absolute confidence that
no possible connection will ever be traced
between the gentleman upon whose front teeth I
have barked my knuckles and the retiring
mathematical coach, who is, I dare say, working
out problems upon a black-board ten miles away.
You will not wonder, Watson, that my first act
on entering your rooms was to close your
shutters, and that I have been compelled to ask
your permission to leave the house by some less
conspicuous exit than the front door."
I had often admired my friend`s courage, but
never more than now, as he sat quietly checking
off a series of incidents which must have
combined to make up a day of horror.
"You will spend the night here?" I said.
"No, my friend, you might find me a dangerous
guest. I have my plans laid, and all will be
well. Matters have gone so far now that they can
move without my help as far as the arrest goes,
though my presence is necessary for a
conviction. It is obvious, therefore, that I
cannot do better than get away for the few days
which remain before the police are at liberty to
act. It would be a great pleasure to me,
therefore, if you could come on to the Continent
with me."
"The practice is quiet," said I, "and I have
an accommodating neighbor. I should be glad to
come."
"And to start to-morrow morning?"
"If necessary."
"Oh yes, it is most necessary. Then these are
your instructions, and I beg, my dear Watson,
that you will obey them to the letter, for you
are now playing a double-handed game with me
against the cleverest rogue and the most
powerful syndicate of criminals in Europe. Now
listen! You will dispatch whatever luggage you
intend to take by a trusty messenger unaddressed
to Victoria to-night. In the morning you will
send for a hansom, desiring your man to take
neither the first nor the second which may
present itself. Into this hansom you will jump,
and you will drive to the Strand end of the
Lowther Arcade, handling the address to the
cabman upon a slip of paper, with a request that
he will not throw it away. Have your fare ready,
and the instant that your cab stops, dash
through the Arcade, timing yourself to reach the
other side at a quarter-past nine. You will find
a small brougham waiting close to the curb,
driven by a fellow with a heavy black cloak
tipped at the collar with red. Into this you
will step, and you will reach Victoria in time
for the Continental express."
"Where shall I meet you?"
"At the station. The second first-class
carriage from the front will be reserved for
us."
"The carriage is our rendezvous, then?"
"Yes."
It was in vain that I asked Holmes to remain
for the evening. It was evident to me that he
though he might bring trouble to the roof he was
under, and that that was the motive which
impelled him to go. With a few hurried words as
to our plans for the morrow he rose and came out
with me into the garden, clambering over the
wall which leads into Mortimer Street, and
immediately whistling for a hansom, in which I
heard him drive away.
In the morning I obeyed Holmes`s injunctions
to the letter. A hansom was procured with such
precaution as would prevent its being one which
was placed ready for us, and I drove immediately
after breakfast to the Lowther Arcade, through
which I hurried at the top of my speed. A
brougham was waiting with a very massive driver
wrapped in a dark cloak, who, the instant that I
had stepped in, whipped up the horse and rattled
off to Victoria Station. On my alighting there
he turned the carriage, and dashed away again
without so much as a look in my direction.
So far all had gone admirably. My luggage was
waiting for me, and I had no difficulty in
finding the carriage which Holmes had indicated,
the less so as it was the only one in the train
which was marked "Engaged." My only source of
anxiety now was the non-appearance of Holmes.
The station clock marked only seven minutes from
the time when we were due to start. In vain I
searched among the groups of travellers and
leave-takers for the little figure of my friend.
There was no sign of him. I spent a few minutes
in assisting a venerable Italian priest, who was
endeavoring to make a porter understand, in his
broken English, that his luggage was to be
booked through to Paris. Then, having taken
another look round, I returned to my carriage,
where I found that the porter, in spite of the
ticket, had given me my decrepit Italian friend
as a traveling companion. It was useless for me
to explain to him that his presence was an
intrusion, for my Italian was even more limited
than his English, so I shrugged my shoulders
resignedly, and continued to look out anxiously
for my friend. A chill of fear had come over me,
as I thought that his absence might mean that
some blow had fallen during the night. Already
the doors had all been shut and the whistle
blown, when--
"My dear Watson," said a voice, "you have not
even condescended to say good-morning."
I turned in uncontrollable astonishment. The
aged ecclesiastic had turned his face towards
me. For an instant the wrinkles were smoothed
away, the nose drew away from the chin, the
lower lip ceased to protrude and the mouth to
mumble, the dull eyes regained their fire, the
drooping figure expanded. The next the whole
frame collapsed again, and Holmes had gone as
quickly as he had come.
"Good heavens!" I cried; "how you startled
me!"
"Every precaution is still necessary," he
whispered. "I have reason to think that they are
hot upon our trail. Ah, there is Moriarty
himself."
The train had already begun to move as Holmes
spoke. Glancing back, I saw a tall man pushing
his way furiously through the crowd, and waving
his hand as if he desired to have the train
stopped. It was too late, however, for we were
rapidly gathering momentum, and an instant later
had shot clear of the station.
"With all our precautions, you see that we
have cut it rather fine," said Holmes, laughing.
He rose, and throwing off the black cassock and
hat which had formed his disguise, he packed
them away in a hand-bag.
"Have you seen the morning paper, Watson?"
"No."
"You haven`t` seen about Baker Street, then?"
"Baker Street?"
"They set fire to our rooms last night. No
great harm was done."
"Good heavens, Holmes! this is intolerable."
"They must have lost my track completely
after their bludgeon-man was arrested. Otherwise
they could not have imagined that I had returned
to my rooms. They have evidently taken the
precaution of watching you, however, and that is
what has brought Moriarty to Victoria. You could
not have made any slip in coming?"
"I did exactly what you advised."
"Did you find your brougham?"
"Yes, it was waiting."
"Did you recognize your coachman?"
"No."
"It was my brother Mycroft. It is an
advantage to get about in such a case without
taking a mercenary into your confidence. But we
must plan what we are to do about Moriarty now."
"As this is an express, and as the boat runs
in connection with it, I should think we have
shaken him off very effectively."
"My dear Watson, you evidently did not
realize my meaning when I said that this man may
be taken as being quite on the same intellectual
plane as myself. You do not imagine that if I
were the pursuer I should allow myself to be
baffled by so slight an obstacle. Why, then,
should you think so meanly of him?"
"What will he do?"
"What I should do?"
"What would you do, then?"
"Engage a special."
"But it must be late."
"By no means. This train stops at Canterbury;
and there is always at least a quarter of an
hour`s delay at the boat. He will catch us
there."
"One would think that we were the criminals.
Let us have him arrested on his arrival."
"It would be to ruin the work of three
months. We should get the big fish, but the
smaller would dart right and left out of the
net. On Monday we should have them all. No, an
arrest is inadmissible."
"What then?"
"We shall get out at Canterbury."
"And then?"
"Well, then we must make a cross-country
journey to Newhaven, and so over to Dieppe.
Moriarty will again do what I should do. He will
get on to Paris, mark down our luggage, and wait
for two days at the depot. In the meantime we
shall treat ourselves to a couple of
carpet-bags, encourage the manufactures of the
countries through which we travel, and make our
way at our leisure into Switzerland, via
Luxembourg and Basle."
At Canterbury, therefore, we alighted, only
to find that we should have to wait an hour
before we could get a train to Newhaven.
I was still looking rather ruefully after the
rapidly disappearing luggage-van which contained
my wardrobe, when Holmes pulled my sleeve and
pointed up the line.
"Already, you see," said he.
Far away, from among the Kentish woods there
rose a thin spray of smoke. A minute later a
carriage and engine could be seen flying along
the open curve which leads to the station. We
had hardly time to take our place behind a pile
of luggage when it passed with a rattle and a
roar, beating a blast of hot air into our faces.
"There he goes," said Holmes, as we watched
the carriage swing and rock over the point.
"There are limits, you see, to our friend`s
intelligence. It would have been a
coup-de-maitre had he deduced what I would
deduce and acted accordingly."
"And what would he have done had he overtaken
us?"
"There cannot be the least doubt that he
would have made a murderous attack upon me. It
is, however, a game at which two may play. The
question, now is whether we should take a
premature lunch here, or run our chance of
starving before we reach the buffet at
Newhaven."
We made our way to Brussels that night and
spent two days there, moving on upon the third
day as far as Strasburg. On the Monday morning
Holmes had telegraphed to the London police, and
in the evening we found a reply waiting for us
at our hotel. Holmes tore it open, and then with
a bitter curse hurled it into the grate.
"I might have known it!" he groaned. "He has
escaped!"
"Moriarty?"
"They have secured the whole gang with the
exception of him. He has given them the slip. Of
course, when I had left the country there was no
one to cope with him. But I did think that I had
put the game in their hands. I think that you
had better return to England, Watson."
"Why?"
"Because you will find me a dangerous
companion now. This man`s occupation is gone. He
is lost if he returns to London. If I read his
character right he will devote his whole
energies to revenging himself upon me. He said
as much in our short interview, and I fancy that
he meant it. I should certainly recommend you to
return to your practice."
It was hardly an appeal to be successful with
one who was an old campaigner as well as an old
friend. We sat in the Strasburg salle-аЎanger
arguing the question for half an hour, but the
same night we had resumed our journey and were
well on our way to Geneva.
For a charming week we wandered up the Valley
of the Rhone, and then, branching off at Leuk,
we made our way over the Gemmi Pass, still deep
in snow, and so, by way of Interlaken, to
Meiringen. It was a lovely trip, the dainty
green of the spring below, the virgin white of
the winter above; but it was clear to me that
never for one instant did Holmes forget the
shadow which lay across him. In the homely
Alpine villages or in the lonely mountain
passes, I could tell by his quick glancing eyes
and his sharp scrutiny of every face that passed
us, that he was well convinced that, walk where
we would, we could not walk ourselves clear of
the danger which was dogging our footsteps.
Once, I remember, as we passed over the
Gemmi, and walked along the border of the
melancholy Daubensee, a large rock which had
been dislodged from the ridge upon our right
clattered down and roared into the lake behind
us. In an instant Holmes had raced up on to the
ridge, and, standing upon a lofty pinnacle,
craned his neck in every direction. It was in
vain that our guide assured him that a fall of
stones was a common chance in the spring-time at
that spot. He said nothing, but he smiled at me
with the air of a man who sees the fulfillment
of that which he had expected.
And yet for all his watchfulness he was never
depressed. On the contrary, I can never
recollect having seen him in such exuberant
spirits. Again and again he recurred to the fact
that if he could be assured that society was
freed from Professor Moriarty he would
cheerfully bring his own career to a conclusion.
"I think that I may go so far as to say,
Watson, that I have not lived wholly in vain,"
he remarked. "If my record were closed to-night
I could still survey it with equanimity. The air
of London is the sweeter for my presence. In
over a thousand cases I am not aware that I have
ever used my powers upon the wrong side. Of late
I have been tempted to look into the problems
furnished by nature rather than those more
superficial ones for which our artificial state
of society is responsible. Your memoirs will
draw to an end, Watson, upon the day that I
crown my career by the capture or extinction of
the most dangerous and capable criminal in
Europe."
I shall be brief, and yet exact, in the
little which remains for me to tell. It is not a
subject on which I would willingly dwell, and
yet I am conscious that a duty devolves upon me
to omit no detail.
It was on the 3d of May that we reached the
little village of Meiringen, where we put up at
the Englischer Hof, then kept by Peter Steiler
the elder. Our landlord was an intelligent man,
and spoke excellent English, having served for
three years as waiter at the Grosvenor Hotel in
London. At his advice, on the afternoon of the
4th we set off together, with the intention of
crossing the hills and spending the night at the
hamlet of Rosenlaui. We had strict injunctions,
however, on no account to pass the falls of
Reichenbach, which are about half-way up the
hill, without making a small detour to see them.
It is indeed, a fearful place. The torrent,
swollen by the melting snow, plunges into a
tremendous abyss, from which the spray rolls up
like the smoke from a burning house. The shaft
into which the river hurls itself is a immense
chasm, lined by glistening coal-black rock, and
narrowing into a creaming, boiling pit of
incalculable depth, which brims over and shoots
the stream onward over its jagged lip. The long
sweep of green water roaring forever down, and
the thick flickering curtain of spray hissing
forever upward, turn a man giddy with their
constant whirl and clamor. We stood near the
edge peering down at the gleam of the breaking
water far below us against the black rocks, and
listening to the half-human shout which came
booming up with the spray out of the abyss.
The path has been cut half-way round the fall
to afford a complete view, but it ends abruptly,
and the traveler has to return as he came. We
had turned to do so, when we saw a Swiss lad
come running along it with a letter in his hand.
It bore the mark of the hotel which we had just
left, and was addressed to me by the landlord.
It appeared that within a very few minutes of
our leaving, an English lady had arrived who was
in the last stage of consumption. She had
wintered at Davos Platz, and was journeying now
to join her friends at Lucerne, when a sudden
hemorrhage had overtaken her. It was thought
that she could hardly live a few hours, but it
would be a great consolation to her to see an
English doctor, and, if I would only return,
etc. The good Steiler assured me in a postscript
that he would himself look upon my compliance as
a very great favor, since the lady absolutely
refused to see a Swiss physician, and he could
not but feel that he was incurring a great
responsibility.
The appeal was one which could not be
ignored. It was impossible to refuse the request
of a fellow-countrywoman dying in a strange
land. Yet I had my scruples about leaving
Holmes. It was finally agreed, however, that he
should retain the young Swiss messenger with him
as guide and companion while I returned to
Meiringen. My friend would stay some little time
at the fall, he said, and would then walk slowly
over the hill to Rosenlaui, where I was to
rejoin him in the evening. As I turned away I
saw Holmes, with his back against a rock and his
arms folded, gazing down at the rush of the
waters. It was the last that I was ever destined
to see of him in this world.
When I was near the bottom of the descent I
looked back. It was impossible, from that
position, to see the fall, but I could see the
curving path which winds over the shoulder of
the hill and leads to it. Along this a man was,
I remember, walking very rapidly.
I could see his black figure clearly outlined
against the green behind him. I noted him, and
the energy with which he walked but he passed
from my mind again as I hurried on upon my
errand.
It may have been a little over an hour before
I reached Meiringen. Old Steiler was standing at
the porch of his hotel.
"Well," said I, as I came hurrying up, "I
trust that she is no worse?"
A look of surprise passed over his face, and
at the first quiver of his eyebrows my heart
turned to lead in my breast.
"You did not write this?" I said, pulling the
letter from my pocket. "There is no sick
Englishwoman in the hotel?"
"Certainly not!" he cried. "But it has the
hotel mark upon it! Ha, it must have been
written by that tall Englishman who came in
after you had gone. He said--"
But I waited for none of the landlord`s
explanations. In a tingle of fear I was already
running down the village street, and making for
the path which I had so lately descended. It had
taken me an hour to come down. For all my
efforts two more had passed before I found
myself at the fall of Reichenbach once more.
There was Holmes`s Alpine-stock still leaning
against the rock by which I had left him. But
there was no sign of him, and it was in vain
that I shouted. My only answer was my own voice
reverberating in a rolling echo from the cliffs
around me.
It was the sight of that Alpine-stock which
turned me cold and sick. He had not gone to
Rosenlaui, then. He had remained on that
three-foot path, with sheer wall on one side and
sheer drop on the other, until his enemy had
overtaken him. The young Swiss had gone too. He
had probably been in the pay of Moriarty, and
had left the two men together. And then what had
happened? Who was to tell us what had happened
then?
I stood for a minute or two to collect
myself, for I was dazed with the horror of the
thing. Then I began to think of Holmes`s own
methods and to try to practise them in reading
this tragedy. It was, alas, only too easy to do.
During our conversation we had not gone to the
end of the path, and the Alpine-stock marked the
place where we had stood. The blackish soil is
kept forever soft by the incessant drift of
spray, and a bird would leave its tread upon it.
Two lines of footmarks were clearly marked along
the farther end of the path, both leading away
from me. There were none returning. A few yards
from the end the soil was all ploughed up into a
patch of mud, and the branches and ferns which
fringed the chasm were torn and bedraggled. I
lay upon my face and peered over with the spray
spouting up all around me. It had darkened since
I left, and now I could only see here and there
the glistening of moisture upon the black walls,
and far away down at the end of the shaft the
gleam of the broken water. I shouted; but only
the same half-human cry of the fall was borne
back to my ears.
But it was destined that I should after all
have a last word of greeting from my friend and
comrade. I have said that his Alpine-stock had
been left leaning against a rock which jutted on
to the path. From the top of this bowlder the
gleam of something bright caught my eye, and,
raising my hand, I found that it came from the
silver cigarette-case which he used to carry. As
I took it up a small square of paper upon which
it had lain fluttered down on to the ground.
Unfolding it, I found that it consisted of three
pages torn from his note-book and addressed to
me. It was characteristic of the man that the
direction was a precise, and the writing as firm
and clear, as though it had been written in his
study.
My dear Watson [it said], I write these few
lines through the courtesy of Mr. Moriarty, who
awaits my convenience for the final discussion
of those questions which lie between us. He has
been giving me a sketch of the methods by which
he avoided the English police and kept himself
informed of our movements. They certainly
confirm the very high opinion which I had formed
of his abilities. I am pleased to think that I
shall be able to free society from any further
effects of his presence, though I fear that it
is at a cost which will give pain to my friends,
and especially, my dear Watson, to you. I have
already explained to you, however, that my
career had in any case reached its crisis, and
that no possible conclusion to it could be more
congenial to me than this. Indeed, if I may make
a full confession to you, I was quite convinced
that the letter from Meiringen was a hoax, and I
allowed you to depart on that errand under the
persuasion that some development of this sort
would follow. Tell Inspector Patterson that the
papers which he needs to convict the gang are in
pigeonhole M., done up in a blue envelope and
inscribed "Moriarty." I made every disposition
of my property before leaving England, and
handed it to my brother Mycroft. Pray give my
greetings to Mrs. Watson, and believe me to be,
my dear fellow,
Very sincerely yours,
Sherlock Holmes
A few words may suffice to tell the little
that remains. An examination by experts leaves
little doubt that a personal contest between the
two men ended, as it could hardly fail to end in
such a situation, in their reeling over, locked
in each other`s arms. Any attempt at recovering
the bodies was absolutely hopeless, and there,
deep down in that dreadful caldron of swirling
water and seething foam, will lie for all time
the most dangerous criminal and the foremost
champion of the law of their generation. The
Swiss youth was never found again, and there can
be no doubt that he was one of the numerous
agents whom Moriarty kept in this employ. As to
the gang, it will be within the memory of the
public how completely the evidence which Holmes
had accumulated exposed their organization, and
how heavily the hand of the dead man weighted
upon them. Of their terrible chief few details
came out during the proceedings, and if I have
now been compelled to make a clear statement of
his career it is due to those injudicious
champions who have endeavored to clear his
memory by attacks upon him whom I shall ever
regard as the best and the wisest man whom I
have ever known.
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