summaryrefslogtreecommitdiff
path: root/old/memho10h.htm
blob: f5097271d30d6182b229839592c6bc9fed4a0fde (plain) 
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609
610
611
612
613
614
615
616
617
618
619
620
621
622
623
624
625
626
627
628
629
630
631
632
633
634
635
636
637
638
639
640
641
642
643
644
645
646
647
648
649
650
651
652
653
654
655
656
657
658
659
660
661
662
663
664
665
666
667
668
669
670
671
672
673
674
675
676
677
678
679
680
681
682
683
684
685
686
687
688
689
690
691
692
693
694
695
696
697
698
699
700
701
702
703
704
705
706
707
708
709
710
711
712
713
714
715
716
717
718
719
720
721
722
723
724
725
726
727
728
729
730
731
732
733
734
735
736
737
738
739
740
741
742
743
744
745
746
747
748
749
750
751
752
753
754
755
756
757
758
759
760
761
762
763
764
765
766
767
768
769
770
771
772
773
774
775
776
777
778
779
780
781
782
783
784
785
786
787
788
789
790
791
792
793
794
795
796
797
798
799
800
801
802
803
804
805
806
807
808
809
810
811
812
813
814
815
816
817
818
819
820
821
822
823
824
825
826
827
828
829
830
831
832
833
834
835
836
837
838
839
840
841
842
843
844
845
846
847
848
849
850
851
852
853
854
855
856
857
858
859
860
861
862
863
864
865
866
867
868
869
870
871
872
873
874
875
876
877
878
879
880
881
882
883
884
885
886
887
888
889
890
891
892
893
894
895
896
897
898
899
900
901
902
903
904
905
906
907
908
909
910
911
912
913
914
915
916
917
918
919
920
921
922
923
924
925
926
927
928
929
930
931
932
933
934
935
936
937
938
939
940
941
942
943
944
945
946
947
948
949
950
951
952
953
954
955
956
957
958
959
960
961
962
963
964
965
966
967
968
969
970
971
972
973
974
975
976
977
978
979
980
981
982
983
984
985
986
987
988
989
990
991
992
993
994
995
996
997
998
999
1000
1001
1002
1003
1004
1005
1006
1007
1008
1009
1010
1011
1012
1013
1014
1015
1016
1017
1018
1019
1020
1021
1022
1023
1024
1025
1026
1027
1028
1029
1030
1031
1032
1033
1034
1035
1036
1037
1038
1039
1040
1041
1042
1043
1044
1045
1046
1047
1048
1049
1050
1051
1052
1053
1054
1055
1056
1057
1058
1059
1060
1061
1062
1063
1064
1065
1066
1067
1068
1069
1070
1071
1072
1073
1074
1075
1076
1077
1078
1079
1080
1081
1082
1083
1084
1085
1086
1087
1088
1089
1090
1091
1092
1093
1094
1095
1096
1097
1098
1099
1100
1101
1102
1103
1104
1105
1106
1107
1108
1109
1110
1111
1112
1113
1114
1115
1116
1117
1118
1119
1120
1121
1122
1123
1124
1125
1126
1127
1128
1129
1130
1131
1132
1133
1134
1135
1136
1137
1138
1139
1140
1141
1142
1143
1144
1145
1146
1147
1148
1149
1150
1151
1152
1153
1154
1155
1156
1157
1158
1159
1160
1161
1162
1163
1164
1165
1166
1167
1168
1169
1170
1171
1172
1173
1174
1175
1176
1177
1178
1179
1180
1181
1182
1183
1184
1185
1186
1187
1188
1189
1190
1191
1192
1193
1194
1195
1196
1197
1198
1199
1200
1201
1202
1203
1204
1205
1206
1207
1208
1209
1210
1211
1212
1213
1214
1215
1216
1217
1218
1219
1220
1221
1222
1223
1224
1225
1226
1227
1228
1229
1230
1231
1232
1233
1234
1235
1236
1237
1238
1239
1240
1241
1242
1243
1244
1245
1246
1247
1248
1249
1250
1251
1252
1253
1254
1255
1256
1257
1258
1259
1260
1261
1262
1263
1264
1265
1266
1267
1268
1269
1270
1271
1272
1273
1274
1275
1276
1277
1278
1279
1280
1281
1282
1283
1284
1285
1286
1287
1288
1289
1290
1291
1292
1293
1294
1295
1296
1297
1298
1299
1300
1301
1302
1303
1304
1305
1306
1307
1308
1309
1310
1311
1312
1313
1314
1315
1316
1317
1318
1319
1320
1321
1322
1323
1324
1325
1326
1327
1328
1329
1330
1331
1332
1333
1334
1335
1336
1337
1338
1339
1340
1341
1342
1343
1344
1345
1346
1347
1348
1349
1350
1351
1352
1353
1354
1355
1356
1357
1358
1359
1360
1361
1362
1363
1364
1365
1366
1367
1368
1369
1370
1371
1372
1373
1374
1375
1376
1377
1378
1379
1380
1381
1382
1383
1384
1385
1386
1387
1388
1389
1390
1391
1392
1393
1394
1395
1396
1397
1398
1399
1400
1401
1402
1403
1404
1405
1406
1407
1408
1409
1410
1411
1412
1413
1414
1415
1416
1417
1418
1419
1420
1421
1422
1423
1424
1425
1426
1427
1428
1429
1430
1431
1432
1433
1434
1435
1436
1437
1438
1439
1440
1441
1442
1443
1444
1445
1446
1447
1448
1449
1450
1451
1452
1453
1454
1455
1456
1457
1458
1459
1460
1461
1462
1463
1464
1465
1466
1467
1468
1469
1470
1471
1472
1473
1474
1475
1476
1477
1478
1479
1480
1481
1482
1483
1484
1485
1486
1487
1488
1489
1490
1491
1492
1493
1494
1495
1496
1497
1498
1499
1500
1501
1502
1503
1504
1505
1506
1507
1508
1509
1510
1511
1512
1513
1514
1515
1516
1517
1518
1519
1520
1521
1522
1523
1524
1525
1526
1527
1528
1529
1530
1531
1532
1533
1534
1535
1536
1537
1538
1539
1540
1541
1542
1543
1544
1545
1546
1547
1548
1549
1550
1551
1552
1553
1554
1555
1556
1557
1558
1559
1560
1561
1562
1563
1564
1565
1566
1567
1568
1569
1570
1571
1572
1573
1574
1575
1576
1577
1578
1579
1580
1581
1582
1583
1584
1585
1586
1587
1588
1589
1590
1591
1592
1593
1594
1595
1596
1597
1598
1599
1600
1601
1602
1603
1604
1605
1606
1607
1608
1609
1610
1611
1612
1613
1614
1615
1616
1617
1618
1619
1620
1621
1622
1623
1624
1625
1626
1627
1628
1629
1630
1631
1632
1633
1634
1635
1636
1637
1638
1639
1640
1641
1642
1643
1644
1645
1646
1647
1648
1649
1650
1651
1652
1653
1654
1655
1656
1657
1658
1659
1660
1661
1662
1663
1664
1665
1666
1667
1668
1669
1670
1671
1672
1673
1674
1675
1676
1677
1678
1679
1680
1681
1682
1683
1684
1685
1686
1687
1688
1689
1690
1691
1692
1693
1694
1695
1696
1697
1698
1699
1700
1701
1702
1703
1704
1705
1706
1707
1708
1709
1710
1711
1712
1713
1714
1715
1716
1717
1718
1719
1720
1721
1722
1723
1724
1725
1726
1727
1728
1729
1730
1731
1732
1733
1734
1735
1736
1737
1738
1739
1740
1741
1742
1743
1744
1745
1746
1747
1748
1749
1750
1751
1752
1753
1754
1755
1756
1757
1758
1759
1760
1761
1762
1763
1764
1765
1766
1767
1768
1769
1770
1771
1772
1773
1774
1775
1776
1777
1778
1779
1780
1781
1782
1783
1784
1785
1786
1787
1788
1789
1790
1791
1792
1793
1794
1795
1796
1797
1798
1799
1800
1801
1802
1803
1804
1805
1806
1807
1808
1809
1810
1811
1812
1813
1814
1815
1816
1817
1818
1819
1820
1821
1822
1823
1824
1825
1826
1827
1828
1829
1830
1831
1832
1833
1834
1835
1836
1837
1838
1839
1840
1841
1842
1843
1844
1845
1846
1847
1848
1849
1850
1851
1852
1853
1854
1855
1856
1857
1858
1859
1860
1861
1862
1863
1864
1865
1866
1867
1868
1869
1870
1871
1872
1873
1874
1875
1876
1877
1878
1879
1880
1881
1882
1883
1884
1885
1886
1887
1888
1889
1890
1891
1892
1893
1894
1895
1896
1897
1898
1899
1900
1901
1902
1903
1904
1905
1906
1907
1908
1909
1910
1911
1912
1913
1914
1915
1916
1917
1918
1919
1920
1921
1922
1923
1924
1925
1926
1927
1928
1929
1930
1931
1932
1933
1934
1935
1936
1937
1938
1939
1940
1941
1942
1943
1944
1945
1946
1947
1948
1949
1950
1951
1952
1953
1954
1955
1956
1957
1958
1959
1960
1961
1962
1963
1964
1965
1966
1967
1968
1969
1970
1971
1972
1973
1974
1975
1976
1977
1978
1979
1980
1981
1982
1983
1984
1985
1986
1987
1988
1989
1990
1991
1992
1993
1994
1995
1996
1997
1998
1999
2000
2001
2002
2003
2004
2005
2006
2007
2008
2009
2010
2011
2012
2013
2014
2015
2016
2017
2018
2019
2020
2021
2022
2023
2024
2025
2026
2027
2028
2029
2030
2031
2032
2033
2034
2035
2036
2037
2038
2039
2040
2041
2042
2043
2044
2045
2046
2047
2048
2049
2050
2051
2052
2053
2054
2055
2056
2057
2058
2059
2060
2061
2062
2063
2064
2065
2066
2067
2068
2069
2070
2071
2072
2073
2074
2075
2076
2077
2078
2079
2080
2081
2082
2083
2084
2085
2086
2087
2088
2089
2090
2091
2092
2093
2094
2095
2096
2097
2098
2099
2100
2101
2102
2103
2104
2105
2106
2107
2108
2109
2110
2111
2112
2113
2114
2115
2116
2117
2118
2119
2120
2121
2122
2123
2124
2125
2126
2127
2128
2129
2130
2131
2132
2133
2134
2135
2136
2137
2138
2139
2140
2141
2142
2143
2144
2145
2146
2147
2148
2149
2150
2151
2152
2153
2154
2155
2156
2157
2158
2159
2160
2161
2162
2163
2164
2165
2166
2167
2168
2169
2170
2171
2172
2173
2174
2175
2176
2177
2178
2179
2180
2181
2182
2183
2184
2185
2186
2187
2188
2189
2190
2191
2192
2193
2194
2195
2196
2197
2198
2199
2200
2201
2202
2203
2204
2205
2206
2207
2208
2209
2210
2211
2212
2213
2214
2215
2216
2217
2218
2219
2220
2221
2222
2223
2224
2225
2226
2227
2228
2229
2230
2231
2232
2233
2234
2235
2236
2237
2238
2239
2240
2241
2242
2243
2244
2245
2246
2247
2248
2249
2250
2251
2252
2253
2254
2255
2256
2257
2258
2259
2260
2261
2262
2263
2264
2265
2266
2267
2268
2269
2270
2271
2272
2273
2274
2275
2276
2277
2278
2279
2280
2281
2282
2283
2284
2285
2286
2287
2288
2289
2290
2291
2292
2293
2294
2295
2296
2297
2298
2299
2300
2301
2302
2303
2304
2305
2306
2307
2308
2309
2310
2311
2312
2313
2314
2315
2316
2317
2318
2319
2320
2321
2322
2323
2324
2325
2326
2327
2328
2329
2330
2331
2332
2333
2334
2335
2336
2337
2338
2339
2340
2341
2342
2343
2344
2345
2346
2347
2348
2349
2350
2351
2352
2353
2354
2355
2356
2357
2358
2359
2360
2361
2362
2363
2364
2365
2366
2367
2368
2369
2370
2371
2372
2373
2374
2375
2376
2377
2378
2379
2380
2381
2382
2383
2384
2385
2386
2387
2388
2389
2390
2391
2392
2393
2394
2395
2396
2397
2398
2399
2400
2401
2402
2403
2404
2405
2406
2407
2408
2409
2410
2411
2412
2413
2414
2415
2416
2417
2418
2419
2420
2421
2422
2423
2424
2425
2426
2427
2428
2429
2430
2431
2432
2433
2434
2435
2436
2437
2438
2439
2440
2441
2442
2443
2444
2445
2446
2447
2448
2449
2450
2451
2452
2453
2454
2455
2456
2457
2458
2459
2460
2461
2462
2463
2464
2465
2466
2467
2468
2469
2470
2471
2472
2473
2474
2475
2476
2477
2478
2479
2480
2481
2482
2483
2484
2485
2486
2487
2488
2489
2490
2491
2492
2493
2494
2495
2496
2497
2498
2499
2500
2501
2502
2503
2504
2505
2506
2507
2508
2509
2510
2511
2512
2513
2514
2515
2516
2517
2518
2519
2520
2521
2522
2523
2524
2525
2526
2527
2528
2529
2530
2531
2532
2533
2534
2535
2536
2537
2538
2539
2540
2541
2542
2543
2544
2545
2546
2547
2548
2549
2550
2551
2552
2553
2554
2555
2556
2557
2558
2559
2560
2561
2562
2563
2564
2565
2566
2567
2568
2569
2570
2571
2572
2573
2574
2575
2576
2577
2578
2579
2580
2581
2582
2583
2584
2585
2586
2587
2588
2589
2590
2591
2592
2593
2594
2595
2596
2597
2598
2599
2600
2601
2602
2603
2604
2605
2606
2607
2608
2609
2610
2611
2612
2613
2614
2615
2616
2617
2618
2619
2620
2621
2622
2623
2624
2625
2626
2627
2628
2629
2630
2631
2632
2633
2634
2635
2636
2637
2638
2639
2640
2641
2642
2643
2644
2645
2646
2647
2648
2649
2650
2651
2652
2653
2654
2655
2656
2657
2658
2659
2660
2661
2662
2663
2664
2665
2666
2667
2668
2669
2670
2671
2672
2673
2674
2675
2676
2677
2678
2679
2680
2681
2682
2683
2684
2685
2686
2687
2688
2689
2690
2691
2692
2693
2694
2695
2696
2697
2698
2699
2700
2701
2702
2703
2704
2705
2706
2707
2708
2709
2710
2711
2712
2713
2714
2715
2716
2717
2718
2719
2720
2721
2722
2723
2724
2725
2726
2727
2728
2729
2730
2731
2732
2733
2734
2735
2736
2737
2738
2739
2740
2741
2742
2743
2744
2745
2746
2747
2748
2749
2750
2751
2752
2753
2754
2755
2756
2757
2758
2759
2760
2761
2762
2763
2764
2765
2766
2767
2768
2769
2770
2771
2772
2773
2774
2775
2776
2777
2778
2779
2780
2781
2782
2783
2784
2785
2786
2787
2788
2789
2790
2791
2792
2793
2794
2795
2796
2797
2798
2799
2800
2801
2802
2803
2804
2805
2806
2807
2808
2809
2810
2811
2812
2813
2814
2815
2816
2817
2818
2819
2820
2821
2822
2823
2824
2825
2826
2827
2828
2829
2830
2831
2832
2833
2834
2835
2836
2837
2838
2839
2840
2841
2842
2843
2844
2845
2846
2847
2848
2849
2850
2851
2852
2853
2854
2855
2856
2857
2858
2859
2860
2861
2862
2863
2864
2865
2866
2867
2868
2869
2870
2871
2872
2873
2874
2875
2876
2877
2878
2879
2880
2881
2882
2883
2884
2885
2886
2887
2888
2889
2890
2891
2892
2893
2894
2895
2896
2897
2898
2899
2900
2901
2902
2903
2904
2905
2906
2907
2908
2909
2910
2911
2912
2913
2914
2915
2916
2917
2918
2919
2920
2921
2922
2923
2924
2925
2926
2927
2928
2929
2930
2931
2932
2933
2934
2935
2936
2937
2938
2939
2940
2941
2942
2943
2944
2945
2946
2947
2948
2949
2950
2951
2952
2953
2954
2955
2956
2957
2958
2959
2960
2961
2962
2963
2964
2965
2966
2967
2968
2969
2970
2971
2972
2973
2974
2975
2976
2977
2978
2979
2980
2981
2982
2983
2984
2985
2986
2987
2988
2989
2990
2991
2992
2993
2994
2995
2996
2997
2998
2999
3000
3001
3002
3003
3004
3005
3006
3007
3008
3009
3010
3011
3012
3013
3014
3015
3016
3017
3018
3019
3020
3021
3022
3023
3024
3025
3026
3027
3028
3029
3030
3031
3032
3033
3034
3035
3036
3037
3038
3039
3040
3041
3042
3043
3044
3045
3046
3047
3048
3049
3050
3051
3052
3053
3054
3055
3056
3057
3058
3059
3060
3061
3062
3063
3064
3065
3066
3067
3068
3069
3070
3071
3072
3073
3074
3075
3076
3077
3078
3079
3080
3081
3082
3083
3084
3085
3086
3087
3088
3089
3090
3091
3092
3093
3094
3095
3096
3097
3098
3099
3100
3101
3102
3103
3104
3105
3106
3107
3108
3109
3110
3111
3112
3113
3114
3115
3116
3117
3118
3119
3120
3121
3122
3123
3124
3125
3126
3127
3128
3129
3130
3131
3132
3133
3134
3135
3136
3137
3138
3139
3140
3141
3142
3143
3144
3145
3146
3147
3148
3149
3150
3151
3152
3153
3154
3155
3156
3157
3158
3159
3160
3161
3162
3163
3164
3165
3166
3167
3168
3169
3170
3171
3172
3173
3174
3175
3176
3177
3178
3179
3180
3181
3182
3183
3184
3185
3186
3187
3188
3189
3190
3191
3192
3193
3194
3195
3196
3197
3198
3199
3200
3201
3202
3203
3204
3205
3206
3207
3208
3209
3210
3211
3212
3213
3214
3215
3216
3217
3218
3219
3220
3221
3222
3223
3224
3225
3226
3227
3228
3229
3230
3231
3232
3233
3234
3235
3236
3237
3238
3239
3240
3241
3242
3243
3244
3245
3246
3247
3248
3249
3250
3251
3252
3253
3254
3255
3256
3257
3258
3259
3260
3261
3262
3263
3264
3265
3266
3267
3268
3269
3270
3271
3272
3273
3274
3275
3276
3277
3278
3279
3280
3281
3282
3283
3284
3285
3286
3287
3288
3289
3290
3291
3292
3293
3294
3295
3296
3297
3298
3299
3300
3301
3302
3303
3304
3305
3306
3307
3308
3309
3310
3311
3312
3313
3314
3315
3316
3317
3318
3319
3320
3321
3322
3323
3324
3325
3326
3327
3328
3329
3330
3331
3332
3333
3334
3335
3336
3337
3338
3339
3340
3341
3342
3343
3344
3345
3346
3347
3348
3349
3350
3351
3352
3353
3354
3355
3356
3357
3358
3359
3360
3361
3362
3363
3364
3365
3366
3367
3368
3369
3370
3371
3372
3373
3374
3375
3376
3377
3378
3379
3380
3381
3382
3383
3384
3385
3386
3387
3388
3389
3390
3391
3392
3393
3394
3395
3396
3397
3398
3399
3400
3401
3402
3403
3404
3405
3406
3407
3408
3409
3410
3411
3412
3413
3414
3415
3416
3417
3418
3419
3420
3421
3422
3423
3424
3425
3426
3427
3428
3429
3430
3431
3432
3433
3434
3435
3436
3437
3438
3439
3440
3441
3442
3443
3444
3445
3446
3447
3448
3449
3450
3451
3452
3453
3454
3455
3456
3457
3458
3459
3460
3461
3462
3463
3464
3465
3466
3467
3468
3469
3470
3471
3472
3473
3474
3475
3476
3477
3478
3479
3480
3481
3482
3483
3484
3485
3486
3487
3488
3489
3490
3491
3492
3493
3494
3495
3496
3497
3498
3499
3500
3501
3502
3503
3504
3505
3506
3507
3508
3509
3510
3511
3512
3513
3514
3515
3516
3517
3518
3519
3520
3521
3522
3523
3524
3525
3526
3527
3528
3529
3530
3531
3532
3533
3534
3535
3536
3537
3538
3539
3540
3541
3542
3543
3544
3545
3546
3547
3548
3549
3550
3551
3552
3553
3554
3555
3556
3557
3558
3559
3560
3561
3562
3563
3564
3565
3566
3567
3568
3569
3570
3571
3572
3573
3574
3575
3576
3577
3578
3579
3580
3581
3582
3583
3584
3585
3586
3587
3588
3589
3590
3591
3592
3593
3594
3595
3596
3597
3598
3599
3600
3601
3602
3603
3604
3605
3606
3607
3608
3609
3610
3611
3612
3613
3614
3615
3616
3617
3618
3619
3620
3621
3622
3623
3624
3625
3626
3627
3628
3629
3630
3631
3632
3633
3634
3635
3636
3637
3638
3639
3640
3641
3642
3643
3644
3645
3646
3647
3648
3649
3650
3651
3652
3653
3654
3655
3656
3657
3658
3659
3660
3661
3662
3663
3664
3665
3666
3667
3668
3669
3670
3671
3672
3673
3674
3675
3676
3677
3678
3679
3680
3681
3682
3683
3684
3685
3686
3687
3688
3689
3690
3691
3692
3693
3694
3695
3696
3697
3698
3699
3700
3701
3702
3703
3704
3705
3706
3707
3708
3709
3710
3711
3712
3713
3714
3715
3716
3717
3718
3719
3720
3721
3722
3723
3724
3725
3726
3727
3728
3729
3730
3731
3732
3733
3734
3735
3736
3737
3738
3739
3740
3741
3742
3743
3744
3745
3746
3747
3748
3749
3750
3751
3752
3753
3754
3755
3756
3757
3758
3759
3760
3761
3762
3763
3764
3765
3766
3767
3768
3769
3770
3771
3772
3773
3774
3775
3776
3777
3778
3779
3780
3781
3782
3783
3784
3785
3786
3787
3788
3789
3790
3791
3792
3793
3794
3795
3796
3797
3798
3799
3800
3801
3802
3803
3804
3805
3806
3807
3808
3809
3810
3811
3812
3813
3814
3815
3816
3817
3818
3819
3820
3821
3822
3823
3824
3825
3826
3827
3828
3829
3830
3831
3832
3833
3834
3835
3836
3837
3838
3839
3840
3841
3842
3843
3844
3845
3846
3847
3848
3849
3850
3851
3852
3853
3854
3855
3856
3857
3858
3859
3860
3861
3862
3863
3864
3865
3866
3867
3868
3869
3870
3871
3872
3873
3874
3875
3876
3877
3878
3879
3880
3881
3882
3883
3884
3885
3886
3887
3888
3889
3890
3891
3892
3893
3894
3895
3896
3897
3898
3899
3900
3901
3902
3903
3904
3905
3906
3907
3908
3909
3910
3911
3912
3913
3914
3915
3916
3917
3918
3919
3920
3921
3922
3923
3924
3925
3926
3927
3928
3929
3930
3931
3932
3933
3934
3935
3936
3937
3938
3939
3940
3941
3942
3943
3944
3945
3946
3947
3948
3949
3950
3951
3952
3953
3954
3955
3956
3957
3958
3959
3960
3961
3962
3963
3964
3965
3966
3967
3968
3969
3970
3971
3972
3973
3974
3975
3976
3977
3978
3979
3980
3981
3982
3983
3984
3985
3986
3987
3988
3989
3990
3991
3992
3993
3994
3995
3996
3997
3998
3999
4000
4001
4002
4003
4004
4005
4006
4007
4008
4009
4010
4011
4012
4013
4014
4015
4016
4017
4018
4019
4020
4021
4022
4023
4024
4025
4026
4027
4028
4029
4030
4031
4032
4033
4034
4035
4036
4037
4038
4039
4040
4041
4042
4043
4044
4045
4046
4047
4048
4049
4050
4051
4052
4053
4054
4055
4056
4057
4058
4059
4060
4061
4062
4063
4064
4065
4066
4067
4068
4069
4070
4071
4072
4073
4074
4075
4076
4077
4078
4079
4080
4081
4082
4083
4084
4085
4086
4087
4088
4089
4090
4091
4092
4093
4094
4095
4096
4097
4098
4099
4100
4101
4102
4103
4104
4105
4106
4107
4108
4109
4110
4111
4112
4113
4114
4115
4116
4117
4118
4119
4120
4121
4122
4123
4124
4125
4126
4127
4128
4129
4130
4131
4132
4133
4134
4135
4136
4137
4138
4139
4140
4141
4142
4143
4144
4145
4146
4147
4148
4149
4150
4151
4152
4153
4154
4155
4156
4157
4158
4159
4160
4161
4162
4163
4164
4165
4166
4167
4168
4169
4170
4171
4172
4173
4174
4175
4176
4177
4178
4179
4180
4181
4182
4183
4184
4185
4186
4187
4188
4189
4190
4191
4192
4193
4194
4195
4196
4197
4198
4199
4200
4201
4202
4203
4204
4205
4206
4207
4208
4209
4210
4211
4212
4213
4214
4215
4216
4217
4218
4219
4220
4221
4222
4223
4224
4225
4226
4227
4228
4229
4230
4231
4232
4233
4234
4235
4236
4237
4238
4239
4240
4241
4242
4243
4244
4245
4246
4247
4248
4249
4250
4251
4252
4253
4254
4255
4256
4257
4258
4259
4260
4261
4262
4263
4264
4265
4266
4267
4268
4269
4270
4271
4272
4273
4274
4275
4276
4277
4278
4279
4280
4281
4282
4283
4284
4285
4286
4287
4288
4289
4290
4291
4292
4293
4294
4295
4296
4297
4298
4299
4300
4301
4302
4303
4304
4305
4306
4307
4308
4309
4310
4311
4312
4313
4314
4315
4316
4317
4318
4319
4320
4321
4322
4323
4324
4325
4326
4327
4328
4329
4330
4331
4332
4333
4334
4335
4336
4337
4338
4339
4340
4341
4342
4343
4344
4345
4346
4347
4348
4349
4350
4351
4352
4353
4354
4355
4356
4357
4358
4359
4360
4361
4362
4363
4364
4365
4366
4367
4368
4369
4370
4371
4372
4373
4374
4375
4376
4377
4378
4379
4380
4381
4382
4383
4384
4385
4386
4387
4388
4389
4390
4391
4392
4393
4394
4395
4396
4397
4398
4399
4400
4401
4402
4403
4404
4405
4406
4407
4408
4409
4410
4411
4412
4413
4414
4415
4416
4417
4418
4419
4420
4421
4422
4423
4424
4425
4426
4427
4428
4429
4430
4431
4432
4433
4434
4435
4436
4437
4438
4439
4440
4441
4442
4443
4444
4445
4446
4447
4448
4449
4450
4451
4452
4453
4454
4455
4456
4457
4458
4459
4460
4461
4462
4463
4464
4465
4466
4467
4468
4469
4470
4471
4472
4473
4474
4475
4476
4477
4478
4479
4480
4481
4482
4483
4484
4485
4486
4487
4488
4489
4490
4491
4492
4493
4494
4495
4496
4497
4498
4499
4500
4501
4502
4503
4504
4505
4506
4507
4508
4509
4510
4511
4512
4513
4514
4515
4516
4517
4518
4519
4520
4521
4522
4523
4524
4525
4526
4527
4528
4529
4530
4531
4532
4533
4534
4535
4536
4537
4538
4539
4540
4541
4542
4543
4544
4545
4546
4547
4548
4549
4550
4551
4552
4553
4554
4555
4556
4557
4558
4559
4560
4561
4562
4563
4564
4565
4566
4567
4568
4569
4570
4571
4572
4573
4574
4575
4576
4577
4578
4579
4580
4581
4582
4583
4584
4585
4586
4587
4588
4589
4590
4591
4592
4593
4594
4595
4596
4597
4598
4599
4600
4601
4602
4603
4604
4605
4606
4607
4608
4609
4610
4611
4612
4613
4614
4615
4616
4617
4618
4619
4620
4621
4622
4623
4624
4625
4626
4627
4628
4629
4630
4631
4632
4633
4634
4635
4636
4637
4638
4639
4640
4641
4642
4643
4644
4645
4646
4647
4648
4649
4650
4651
4652
4653
4654
4655
4656
4657
4658
4659
4660
4661
4662
4663
4664
4665
4666
4667
4668
4669
4670
4671
4672
4673
4674
4675
4676
4677
4678
4679
4680
4681
4682
4683
4684
4685
4686
4687
4688
4689
4690
4691
4692
4693
4694
4695
4696
4697
4698
4699
4700
4701
4702
4703
4704
4705
4706
4707
4708
4709
4710
4711
4712
4713
4714
4715
4716
4717
4718
4719
4720
4721
4722
4723
4724
4725
4726
4727
4728
4729
4730
4731
4732
4733
4734
4735
4736
4737
4738
4739
4740
4741
4742
4743
4744
4745
4746
4747
4748
4749
4750
4751
4752
4753
4754
4755
4756
4757
4758
4759
4760
4761
4762
4763
4764
4765
4766
4767
4768
4769
4770
4771
4772
4773
4774
4775
4776
4777
4778
4779
4780
4781
4782
4783
4784
4785
4786
4787
4788
4789
4790
4791
4792
4793
4794
4795
4796
4797
4798
4799
4800
4801
4802
4803
4804
4805
4806
4807
4808
4809
4810
4811
4812
4813
4814
4815
4816
4817
4818
4819
4820
4821
4822
4823
4824
4825
4826
4827
4828
4829
4830
4831
4832
4833
4834
4835
4836
4837
4838
4839
4840
4841
4842
4843
4844
4845
4846
4847
4848
4849
4850
4851
4852
4853
4854
4855
4856
4857
4858
4859
4860
4861
4862
4863
4864
4865
4866
4867
4868
4869
4870
4871
4872
4873
4874
4875
4876
4877
4878
4879
4880
4881
4882
4883
4884
4885
4886
4887
4888
4889
4890
4891
4892
4893
4894
4895
4896
4897
4898
4899
4900
4901
4902
4903
4904
4905
4906
4907
4908
4909
4910
4911
4912
4913
4914
4915
4916
4917
4918
4919
4920
4921
4922
4923
4924
4925
4926
4927
4928
4929
4930
4931
4932
4933
4934
4935
4936
4937
4938
4939
4940
4941
4942
4943
4944
4945
4946
4947
4948
4949
4950
4951
4952
4953
4954
4955
4956
4957
4958
4959
4960
4961
4962
4963
4964
4965
4966
4967
4968
4969
4970
4971
4972
4973
4974
4975
4976
4977
4978
4979
4980
4981
4982
4983
4984
4985
4986
4987
4988
4989
4990
4991
4992
4993
4994
4995
4996
4997
4998
4999
5000
5001
5002
5003
5004
5005
5006
5007
5008
5009
5010
5011
5012
5013
5014
5015
5016
5017
5018
5019
5020
5021
5022
5023
5024
5025
5026
5027
5028
5029
5030
5031
5032
5033
5034
5035
5036
5037
5038
5039
5040
5041
5042
5043
5044
5045
5046
5047
5048
5049
5050
5051
5052
5053
5054
5055
5056
5057
5058
5059
5060
5061
5062
5063
5064
5065
5066
5067
5068
5069
5070
5071
5072
5073
5074
5075
5076
5077
5078
5079
5080
5081
5082
5083
5084
5085
5086
5087
5088
5089
5090
5091
5092
5093
5094
5095
5096
5097
5098
5099
5100
5101
5102
5103
5104
5105
5106
5107
5108
5109
5110
5111
5112
5113
5114
5115
5116
5117
5118
5119
5120
5121
5122
5123
5124
5125
5126
5127
5128
5129
5130
5131
5132
5133
5134
5135
5136
5137
5138
5139
5140
5141
5142
5143
5144
5145
5146
5147
5148
5149
5150
5151
5152
5153
5154
5155
5156
5157
5158
5159
5160
5161
5162
5163
5164
5165
5166
5167
5168
5169
5170
5171
5172
5173
5174
5175
5176
5177
5178
5179
5180
5181
5182
5183
5184
5185
5186
5187
5188
5189
5190
5191
5192
5193
5194
5195
5196
5197
5198
5199
5200
5201
5202
5203
5204
5205
5206
5207
5208
5209
5210
5211
5212
5213
5214
5215
5216
5217
5218
5219
5220
5221
5222
5223
5224
5225
5226
5227
5228
5229
5230
5231
5232
5233
5234
5235
5236
5237
5238
5239
5240
5241
5242
5243
5244
5245
5246
5247
5248
5249
5250
5251
5252
5253
5254
5255
5256
5257
5258
5259
5260
5261
5262
5263
5264
5265
5266
5267
5268
5269
5270
5271
5272
5273
5274
5275
5276
5277
5278
5279
5280
5281
5282
5283
5284
5285
5286
5287
5288
5289
5290
5291
5292
5293
5294
5295
5296
5297
5298
5299
5300
5301
5302
5303
5304
5305
5306
5307
5308
5309
5310
5311
5312
5313
5314
5315
5316
5317
5318
5319
5320
5321
5322
5323
5324
5325
5326
5327
5328
5329
5330
5331
5332
5333
5334
5335
5336
5337
5338
5339
5340
5341
5342
5343
5344
5345
5346
5347
5348
5349
5350
5351
5352
5353
5354
5355
5356
5357
5358
5359
5360
5361
5362
5363
5364
5365
5366
5367
5368
5369
5370
5371
5372
5373
5374
5375
5376
5377
5378
5379
5380
5381
5382
5383
5384
5385
5386
5387
5388
5389
5390
5391
5392
5393
5394
5395
5396
5397
5398
5399
5400
5401
5402
5403
5404
5405
5406
5407
5408
5409
5410
5411
5412
5413
5414
5415
5416
5417
5418
5419
5420
5421
5422
5423
5424
5425
5426
5427
5428
5429
5430
5431
5432
5433
5434
5435
5436
5437
5438
5439
5440
5441
5442
5443
5444
5445
5446
5447
5448
5449
5450
5451
5452
5453
5454
5455
5456
5457
5458
5459
5460
5461
5462
5463
5464
5465
5466
5467
5468
5469
5470
5471
5472
5473
5474
5475
5476
5477
5478
5479
5480
5481
5482
5483
5484
5485
5486
5487
5488
5489
5490
5491
5492
5493
5494
5495
5496
5497
5498
5499
5500
5501
5502
5503
5504
5505
5506
5507
5508
5509
5510
5511
5512
5513
5514
5515
5516
5517
5518
5519
5520
5521
5522
5523
5524
5525
5526
5527
5528
5529
5530
5531
5532
5533
5534
5535
5536
5537
5538
5539
5540
5541
5542
5543
5544
5545
5546
5547
5548
5549
5550
5551
5552
5553
5554
5555
5556
5557
5558
5559
5560
5561
5562
5563
5564
5565
5566
5567
5568
5569
5570
5571
5572
5573
5574
5575
5576
5577
5578
5579
5580
5581
5582
5583
5584
5585
5586
5587
5588
5589
5590
5591
5592
5593
5594
5595
5596
5597
5598
5599
5600
5601
5602
5603
5604
5605
5606
5607
5608
5609
5610
5611
5612
5613
5614
5615
5616
5617
5618
5619
5620
5621
5622
5623
5624
5625
5626
5627
5628
5629
5630
5631
5632
5633
5634
5635
5636
5637
5638
5639
5640
5641
5642
5643
5644
5645
5646
5647
5648
5649
5650
5651
5652
5653
5654
5655
5656
5657
5658
5659
5660
5661
5662
5663
5664
5665
5666
5667
5668
5669
5670
5671
5672
5673
5674
5675
5676
5677
5678
5679
5680
5681
5682
5683
5684
5685
5686
5687
5688
5689
5690
5691
5692
5693
5694
5695
5696
5697
5698
5699
5700
5701
5702
5703
5704
5705
5706
5707
5708
5709
5710
5711
5712
5713
5714
5715
5716
5717
5718
5719
5720
5721
5722
5723
5724
5725
5726
5727
5728
5729
5730
5731
5732
5733
5734
5735
5736
5737
5738
5739
5740
5741
5742
5743
5744
5745
5746
5747
5748
5749
5750
5751
5752
5753
5754
5755
5756
5757
5758
5759
5760
5761
5762
5763
5764
5765
5766
5767
5768
5769
5770
5771
5772
5773
5774
5775
5776
5777
5778
5779
5780
5781
5782
5783
5784
5785
5786
5787
5788
5789
5790
5791
5792
5793
5794
5795
5796
5797
5798
5799
5800
5801
5802
5803
5804
5805
5806
5807
5808
5809
5810
5811
5812
5813
5814
5815
5816
5817
5818
5819
5820
5821
5822
5823
5824
5825
5826
5827
5828
5829
5830
5831
5832
5833
5834
5835
5836
5837
5838
5839
5840
5841
5842
5843
5844
5845
5846
5847
5848
5849
5850
5851
5852
5853
5854
5855
5856
5857
5858
5859
5860
5861
5862
5863
5864
5865
5866
5867
5868
5869
5870
5871
5872
5873
5874
5875
5876
5877
5878
5879
5880
5881
5882
5883
5884
5885
5886
5887
5888
5889
5890
5891
5892
5893
5894
5895
5896
5897
5898
5899
5900
5901
5902
5903
5904
5905
5906
5907
5908
5909
5910
5911
5912
5913
5914
5915
5916
5917
5918
5919
5920
5921
5922
5923
5924
5925
5926
5927
5928
5929
5930
5931
5932
5933
5934
5935
5936
5937
5938
5939
5940
5941
5942
5943
5944
5945
5946
5947
5948
5949
5950
5951
5952
5953
5954
5955
5956
5957
5958
5959
5960
5961
5962
5963
5964
5965
5966
5967
5968
5969
5970
5971
5972
5973
5974
5975
5976
5977
5978
5979
5980
5981
5982
5983
5984
5985
5986
5987
5988
5989
5990
5991
5992
5993
5994
5995
5996
5997
5998
5999
6000
6001
6002
6003
6004
6005
6006
6007
6008
6009
6010
6011
6012
6013
6014
6015
6016
6017
6018
6019
6020
6021
6022
6023
6024
6025
6026
6027
6028
6029
6030
6031
6032
6033
6034
6035
6036
6037
6038
6039
6040
6041
6042
6043
6044
6045
6046
6047
6048
6049
6050
6051
6052
6053
6054
6055
6056
6057
6058
6059
6060
6061
6062
6063
6064
6065
6066
6067
6068
6069
6070
6071
6072
6073
6074
6075
6076
6077
6078
6079
6080
6081
6082
6083
6084
6085
6086
6087
6088
6089
6090
6091
6092
6093
6094
6095
6096
6097
6098
6099
6100
6101
6102
6103
6104
6105
6106
6107
6108
6109
6110
6111
6112
6113
6114
6115
6116
6117
6118
6119
6120
6121
6122
6123
6124
6125
6126
6127
6128
6129
6130
6131
6132
6133
6134
6135
6136
6137
6138
6139
6140
6141
6142
6143
6144
6145
6146
6147
6148
6149
6150
6151
6152
6153
6154
6155
6156
6157
6158
6159
6160
6161
6162
6163
6164
6165
6166
6167
6168
6169
6170
6171
6172
6173
6174
6175
6176
6177
6178
6179
6180
6181
6182
6183
6184
6185
6186
6187
6188
6189
6190
6191
6192
6193
6194
6195
6196
6197
6198
6199
6200
6201
6202
6203
6204
6205
6206
6207
6208
6209
6210
6211
6212
6213
6214
6215
6216
6217
6218
6219
6220
6221
6222
6223
6224
6225
6226
6227
6228
6229
6230
6231
6232
6233
6234
6235
6236
6237
6238
6239
6240
6241
6242
6243
6244
6245
6246
6247
6248
6249
6250
6251
6252
6253
6254
6255
6256
6257
6258
6259
6260
6261
6262
6263
6264
6265
6266
6267
6268
6269
6270
6271
6272
6273
6274
6275
6276
6277
6278
6279
6280
6281
6282
6283
6284
6285
6286
6287
6288
6289
6290
6291
6292
6293
6294
6295
6296
6297
6298
6299
6300
6301
6302
6303
6304
6305
6306
6307
6308
6309
6310
6311
6312
6313
6314
6315
6316
6317
6318
6319
6320
6321
6322
6323
6324
6325
6326
6327
6328
6329
6330
6331
6332
6333
6334
6335
6336
6337
6338
6339
6340
6341
6342
6343
6344
6345
6346
6347
6348
6349
6350
6351
6352
6353
6354
6355
6356
6357
6358
6359
6360
6361
6362
6363
6364
6365
6366
6367
6368
6369
6370
6371
6372
6373
6374
6375
6376
6377
6378
6379
6380
6381
6382
6383
6384
6385
6386
6387
6388
6389
6390
6391
6392
6393
6394
6395
6396
6397
6398
6399
6400
6401
6402
6403
6404
6405
6406
6407
6408
6409
6410
6411
6412
6413
6414
6415
6416
6417
6418
6419
6420
6421
6422
6423
6424
6425
6426
6427
6428
6429
6430
6431
6432
6433
6434
6435
6436
6437
6438
6439
6440
6441
6442
6443
6444
6445
6446
6447
6448
6449
6450
6451
6452
6453
6454
6455
6456
6457
6458
6459
6460
6461
6462
6463
6464
6465
6466
6467
6468
6469
6470
6471
6472
6473
6474
6475
6476
6477
6478
6479
6480
6481
6482
6483
6484
6485
6486
6487
6488
6489
6490
6491
6492
6493
6494
6495
6496
6497
6498
6499
6500
6501
6502
6503
6504
6505
6506
6507
6508
6509
6510
6511
6512
6513
6514
6515
6516
6517
6518
6519
6520
6521
6522
6523
6524
6525
6526
6527
6528
6529
6530
6531
6532
6533
6534
6535
6536
6537
6538
6539
6540
6541
6542
6543
6544
6545
6546
6547
6548
6549
6550
6551
6552
6553
6554
6555
6556
6557
6558
6559
6560
6561
6562
6563
6564
6565
6566
6567
6568
6569
6570
6571
6572
6573
6574
6575
6576
6577
6578
6579
6580
6581
6582
6583
6584
6585
6586
6587
6588
6589
6590
6591
6592
6593
6594
6595
6596
6597
6598
6599
6600
6601
6602
6603
6604
6605
6606
6607
6608
6609
6610
6611
6612
6613
6614
6615
6616
6617
6618
6619
6620
6621
6622
6623
6624
6625
6626
6627
6628
6629
6630
6631
6632
6633
6634
6635
6636
6637
6638
6639
6640
6641
6642
6643
6644
6645
6646
6647
6648
6649
6650
6651
6652
6653
6654
6655
6656
6657
6658
6659
6660
6661
6662
6663
6664
6665
6666
6667
6668
6669
6670
6671
6672
6673
6674
6675
6676
6677
6678
6679
6680
6681
6682
6683
6684
6685
6686
6687
6688
6689
6690
6691
6692
6693
6694
6695
6696
6697
6698
6699
6700
6701
6702
6703
6704
6705
6706
6707
6708
6709
6710
6711
6712
6713
6714
6715
6716
6717
6718
6719
6720
6721
6722
6723
6724
6725
6726
6727
6728
6729
6730
6731
6732
6733
6734
6735
6736
6737
6738
6739
6740
6741
6742
6743
6744
6745
6746
6747
6748
6749
6750
6751
6752
6753
6754
6755
6756
6757
6758
6759
6760
6761
6762
6763
6764
6765
6766
6767
6768
6769
6770
6771
6772
6773
6774
6775
6776
6777
6778
6779
6780
6781
6782
6783
6784
6785
6786
6787
6788
6789
6790
6791
6792
6793
6794
6795
6796
6797
6798
6799
6800
6801
6802
6803
6804
6805
6806
6807
6808
6809
6810
6811
6812
6813
6814
6815
6816
6817
6818
6819
6820
6821
6822
6823
6824
6825
6826
6827
6828
6829
6830
6831
6832
6833
6834
6835
6836
6837
6838
6839
6840
6841
6842
6843
6844
6845
6846
6847
6848
6849
6850
6851
6852
6853
6854
6855
6856
6857
6858
6859
6860
6861
6862
6863
6864
6865
6866
6867
6868
6869
6870
6871
6872
6873
6874
6875
6876
6877
6878
6879
6880
6881
6882
6883
6884
6885
6886
6887
6888
6889
6890
6891
6892
6893
6894
6895
6896
6897
6898
6899
6900
6901
6902
6903
6904
6905
6906
6907
6908
6909
6910
6911
6912
6913
6914
6915
6916
6917
6918
6919
6920
6921
6922
6923
6924
6925
6926
6927
6928
6929
6930
6931
6932
6933
6934
6935
6936
6937
6938
6939
6940
6941
6942
6943
6944
6945
6946
6947
6948
6949
6950
6951
6952
6953
6954
6955
6956
6957
6958
6959
6960
6961
6962
6963
6964
6965
6966
6967
6968
6969
6970
6971
6972
6973
6974
6975
6976
6977
6978
6979
6980
6981
6982
6983
6984
6985
6986
6987
6988
6989
6990
6991
6992
6993
6994
6995
6996
6997
6998
6999
7000
7001
7002
7003
7004
7005
7006
7007
7008
7009
7010
7011
7012
7013
7014
7015
7016
7017
7018
7019
7020
7021
7022
7023
7024
7025
7026
7027
7028
7029
7030
7031
7032
7033
7034
7035
7036
7037
7038
7039
7040
7041
7042
7043
7044
7045
7046
7047
7048
7049
7050
7051
7052
7053
7054
7055
7056
7057
7058
7059
7060
7061
7062
7063
7064
7065
7066
7067
7068
7069
7070
7071
7072
7073
7074
7075
7076
7077
7078
7079
7080
7081
7082
7083
7084
7085
7086
7087
7088
7089
7090
7091
7092
7093
7094
7095
7096
7097
7098
7099
7100
7101
7102
7103
7104
7105
7106
7107
7108
7109
7110
7111
7112
7113
7114
7115
7116
7117
7118
7119
7120
7121
7122
7123
7124
7125
7126
7127
7128
7129
7130
7131
7132
7133
7134
7135
7136
7137
7138
7139
7140
7141
7142
7143
7144
7145
7146
7147
7148
7149
7150
7151
7152
7153
7154
7155
7156
7157
7158
7159
7160
7161
7162
7163
7164
7165
7166
7167
7168
7169
7170
7171
7172
7173
7174
7175
7176
7177
7178
7179
7180
7181
7182
7183
7184
7185
7186
7187
7188
7189
7190
7191
7192
7193
7194
7195
7196
7197
7198
7199
7200
7201
7202
7203
7204
7205
7206
7207
7208
7209
7210
7211
7212
7213
7214
7215
7216
7217
7218
7219
7220
7221
7222
7223
7224
7225
7226
7227
7228
7229
7230
7231
7232
7233
7234
7235
7236
7237
7238
7239
7240
7241
7242
7243
7244
7245
7246
7247
7248
7249
7250
7251
7252
7253
7254
7255
7256
7257
7258
7259
7260
7261
7262
7263
7264
7265
7266
7267
7268
7269
7270
7271
7272
7273
7274
7275
7276
7277
7278
7279
7280
7281
7282
7283
7284
7285
7286
7287
7288
7289
7290
7291
7292
7293
7294
7295
7296
7297
7298
7299
7300
7301
7302
7303
7304
7305
7306
7307
7308
7309
7310
7311
7312
7313
7314
7315
7316
7317
7318
7319
7320
7321
7322
7323
7324
7325
7326
7327
7328
7329
7330
7331
7332
7333
7334
7335
7336
7337
7338
7339
7340
7341
7342
7343
7344
7345
7346
7347
7348
7349
7350
7351
7352
7353
7354
7355
7356
7357
7358
7359
7360
7361
7362
7363
7364
7365
7366
7367
7368
7369
7370
7371
7372
7373
7374
7375
7376
7377
7378
7379
7380
7381
7382
7383
7384
7385
7386
7387
7388
7389
7390
7391
7392
7393
7394
7395
7396
7397
7398
7399
7400
7401
7402
7403
7404
7405
7406
7407
7408
7409
7410
7411
7412
7413
7414
7415
7416
7417
7418
7419
7420
7421
7422
7423
7424
7425
7426
7427
7428
7429
7430
7431
7432
7433
7434
7435
7436
7437
7438
7439
7440
7441
7442
7443
7444
7445
7446
7447
7448
7449
7450
7451
7452
7453
7454
7455
7456
7457
7458
7459
7460
7461
7462
7463
7464
7465
7466
7467
7468
7469
7470
7471
7472
7473
7474
7475
7476
7477
7478
7479
7480
7481
7482
7483
7484
7485
7486
7487
7488
7489
7490
7491
7492
7493
7494
7495
7496
7497
7498
7499
7500
7501
7502
7503
7504
7505
7506
7507
7508
7509
7510
7511
7512
7513
7514
7515
7516
7517
7518
7519
7520
7521
7522
7523
7524
7525
7526
7527
7528
7529
7530
7531
7532
7533
7534
7535
7536
7537
7538
7539
7540
7541
7542
7543
7544
7545
7546
7547
7548
7549
7550
7551
7552
7553
7554
7555
7556
7557
7558
7559
7560
7561
7562
7563
7564
7565
7566
7567
7568
7569
7570
7571
7572
7573
7574
7575
7576
7577
7578
7579
7580
7581
7582
7583
7584
7585
7586
7587
7588
7589
7590
7591
7592
7593
7594
7595
7596
7597
7598
7599
7600
7601
7602
7603
7604
7605
7606
7607
7608
7609
7610
7611
7612
7613
7614
7615
7616
7617
7618
7619
7620
7621
7622
7623
7624
7625
7626
7627
7628
7629
7630
7631
7632
7633
7634
7635
7636
7637
7638
7639
7640
7641
7642
7643
7644
7645
7646
7647
7648
7649
7650
7651
7652
7653
7654
7655
7656
7657
7658
7659
7660
7661
7662
7663
7664
7665
7666
7667
7668
7669
7670
7671
7672
7673
7674
7675
7676
7677
7678
7679
7680
7681
7682
7683
7684
7685
7686
7687
7688
7689
7690
7691
7692
7693
7694
7695
7696
7697
7698
7699
7700
7701
7702
7703
7704
7705
7706
7707
7708
7709
7710
7711
7712
7713
7714
7715
7716
7717
7718
7719
7720
7721
7722
7723
7724
7725
7726
7727
7728
7729
7730
7731
7732
7733
7734
7735
7736
7737
7738
7739
7740
7741
7742
7743
7744
7745
7746
7747
7748
7749
7750
7751
7752
7753
7754
7755
7756
7757
7758
7759
7760
7761
7762
7763
7764
7765
7766
7767
7768
7769
7770
7771
7772
7773
7774
7775
7776
7777
7778
7779
7780
7781
7782
7783
7784
7785
7786
7787
7788
7789
7790
7791
7792
7793
7794
7795
7796
7797
7798
7799
7800
7801
7802
7803
7804
7805
7806
7807
7808
7809
7810
7811
7812
7813
7814
7815
7816
7817
7818
7819
7820
7821
7822
7823
7824
7825
7826
7827
7828
7829
7830
7831
7832
7833
7834
7835
7836
7837
7838
7839
7840
7841
7842
7843
7844
7845
7846
7847
7848
7849
7850
7851
7852
7853
7854
7855
7856
7857
7858
7859
7860
7861
7862
7863
7864
7865
7866
7867
7868
7869
7870
7871
7872
7873
7874
7875
7876
7877
7878
7879
7880
7881
7882
7883
7884
7885
7886
7887
7888
7889
7890
7891
7892
7893
7894
7895
7896
7897
7898
7899
7900
7901
7902
7903
7904
7905
7906
7907
7908
7909
7910
7911
7912
7913
7914
7915
7916
7917
7918
7919
7920
7921
7922
7923
7924
7925
7926
7927
7928
7929
7930
7931
7932
7933
7934
7935
7936
7937
7938
7939
7940
7941
7942
7943
7944
7945
7946
7947
7948
7949
7950
7951
7952
7953
7954
7955
7956
7957
7958
7959
7960
7961
7962
7963
7964
7965
7966
7967
7968
7969
7970
7971
7972
7973
7974
7975
7976
7977
7978
7979
7980
7981
7982
7983
7984
7985
7986
7987
7988
7989
7990
7991
7992
7993
7994
7995
7996
7997
7998
7999
8000
8001
8002
8003
8004
8005
8006
8007
8008
8009
8010
8011
8012
8013
8014
8015
8016
8017
8018
8019
8020
8021
8022
8023
8024
8025
8026
8027
8028
8029
8030
8031
8032
8033
8034
8035
8036
8037
8038
8039
8040
8041
8042
8043
8044
8045
8046
8047
8048
8049
8050
8051
8052
8053
8054
8055
8056
8057
8058
8059
8060
8061
8062
8063
8064
8065
8066
8067
8068
8069
8070
8071
8072
8073
8074
8075
8076
8077
8078
8079
8080
8081
8082
8083
8084
8085
8086
8087
8088
8089
8090
8091
8092
8093
8094
8095
8096
8097
8098
8099
8100
8101
8102
8103
8104
8105
8106
8107
8108
8109
8110
8111
8112
8113
8114
8115
8116
8117
8118
8119
8120
8121
8122
8123
8124
8125
8126
8127
8128
8129
8130
8131
8132
8133
8134
8135
8136
8137
8138
8139
8140
8141
8142
8143
8144
8145
8146
8147
8148
8149
8150
8151
8152
8153
8154
8155
8156
8157
8158
8159
8160
8161
8162
8163
8164
8165
8166
8167
8168
8169
8170
8171
8172
8173
8174
8175
8176
8177
8178
8179
8180
8181
8182
8183
8184
8185
8186
8187
8188
8189
8190
8191
8192
8193
8194
8195
8196
8197
8198
8199
8200
8201
8202
8203
8204
8205
8206
8207
8208
8209
8210
8211
8212
8213
8214
8215
8216
8217
8218
8219
8220
8221
8222
8223
8224
8225
8226
8227
8228
8229
8230
8231
8232
8233
8234
8235
8236
8237
8238
8239
8240
8241
8242
8243
8244
8245
8246
8247
8248
8249
8250
8251
8252
8253
8254
8255
8256
8257
8258
8259
8260
8261
8262
8263
8264
8265
8266
8267
8268
8269
8270
8271
8272
8273
8274
8275
8276
8277
8278
8279
8280
8281
8282
8283
8284
8285
8286
8287
8288
8289
8290
8291
8292
8293
8294
8295
8296
8297
8298
8299
8300
8301
8302
8303
8304
8305
8306
8307
8308
8309
8310
8311
8312
8313
8314
8315
8316
8317
8318
8319
8320
8321
8322
8323
8324
8325
8326
8327
8328
8329
8330
8331
8332
8333
8334
8335
8336
8337
8338
8339
8340
8341
8342
8343
8344
8345
8346
8347
8348
8349
8350
8351
8352
8353
8354
8355
8356
8357
8358
8359
8360
8361
8362
8363
8364
8365
8366
8367
8368
8369
8370
8371
8372
8373
8374
8375
8376
8377
8378
8379
8380
8381
8382
8383
8384
8385
8386
8387
8388
8389
8390
8391
8392
8393
8394
8395
8396
8397
8398
8399
8400
8401
8402
8403
8404
8405
8406
8407
8408
8409
8410
8411
8412
8413
8414
8415
8416
8417
8418
8419
8420
8421
8422
8423
8424
8425
8426
8427
8428
8429
8430
8431
8432
8433
8434
8435
8436
8437
8438
8439
8440
8441
8442
8443
8444
8445
8446
8447
8448
8449
8450
8451
8452
8453
8454
8455
8456
8457
8458
8459
8460
8461
8462
8463
8464
8465
8466
8467
8468
8469
8470
8471
8472
8473
8474
8475
8476
8477
8478
8479
8480
8481
8482
8483
8484
8485
8486
8487
8488
8489
8490
8491
8492
8493
8494
8495
8496
8497
8498
8499
8500
8501
8502
8503
8504
8505
8506
8507
8508
8509
8510
8511
8512
8513
8514
8515
8516
8517
8518
8519
8520
8521
8522
8523
8524
8525
8526
8527
8528
8529
8530
8531
8532
8533
8534
8535
8536
8537
8538
8539
8540
8541
8542
8543
8544
8545
8546
8547
8548
8549
8550
8551
8552
8553
8554
8555
8556
8557
8558
8559
8560
8561
8562
8563
8564
8565
8566
8567
8568
8569
8570
8571
8572
8573
8574
8575
8576
8577
8578
8579
8580
8581
8582
8583
8584
8585
8586
8587
8588
8589
8590
8591
8592
8593
8594
8595
8596
8597
8598
8599
8600
8601
8602
8603
8604
8605
8606
8607
8608
8609
8610
8611
8612
8613
8614
8615
8616
8617
8618
8619
8620
8621
8622
8623
8624
8625
8626
8627
8628
8629
8630
8631
8632
8633
8634
8635
8636
8637
8638
8639
8640
8641
8642
8643
8644
8645
8646
8647
8648
8649
8650
8651
8652
8653
8654
8655
8656
8657
8658
8659
8660
8661
8662
8663
8664
8665
8666
8667
8668
8669
8670
8671
8672
8673
8674
8675
8676
8677
8678
8679
8680
8681
8682
8683
8684
8685
8686
8687
8688
8689
8690
8691
8692
8693
8694
8695
8696
8697
8698
8699
8700
8701
8702
8703
8704
8705
8706
8707
8708
8709
8710
8711
8712
8713
8714
8715
8716
8717
8718
8719
8720
8721
8722
8723
8724
8725
8726
8727
8728
8729
8730
8731
8732
8733
8734
8735
8736
8737
8738
8739
8740
8741
8742
8743
8744
8745
8746
8747
8748
8749
8750
8751
8752
8753
8754
8755
8756
8757
8758
8759
8760
8761
8762
8763
8764
8765
8766
8767
8768
8769
8770
8771
8772
8773
8774
8775
8776
8777
8778
8779
8780
8781
8782
8783
8784
8785
8786
8787
8788
8789
8790
8791
8792
8793
8794
8795
8796
8797
8798
8799
8800
8801
8802
8803
8804
8805
8806
8807
8808
8809
8810
8811
8812
8813
8814
8815
8816
8817
8818
8819
8820
8821
8822
8823
8824
8825
8826
8827
8828
8829
8830
8831
8832
8833
8834
8835
8836
8837
8838
8839
8840
8841
8842
8843
8844
8845
8846
8847
8848
8849
8850
8851
8852
8853
8854
8855
8856
8857
8858
8859
8860
8861
8862
8863
8864
8865
8866
8867
8868
8869
8870
8871
8872
8873
8874
8875
8876
8877
8878
8879
8880
8881
8882
8883
8884
8885
8886
8887
8888
8889
8890
8891
8892
8893
8894
8895
8896
8897
8898
8899
8900
8901
8902
8903
8904
8905
8906
8907
8908
8909
8910
8911
8912
8913
8914
8915
8916
8917
8918
8919
8920
8921
8922
8923
8924
8925
8926
8927
8928
8929
8930
8931
8932
8933
8934
8935
8936
8937
8938
8939
8940
8941
8942
8943
8944
8945
8946
8947
8948
8949
8950
8951
8952
8953
8954
8955
8956
8957
8958
8959
8960
8961
8962
8963
8964
8965
8966
8967
8968
8969
8970
8971
8972
8973
8974
8975
8976
8977
8978
8979
8980
8981
8982
8983
8984
8985
8986
8987
8988
8989
8990
8991
8992
8993
8994
8995
8996
8997
8998
8999
9000
9001
9002
9003
9004
9005
9006
9007
9008
9009
9010
9011
9012
9013
9014
9015
9016
9017
9018
9019
9020
9021
9022
9023
9024
9025
9026
9027
9028
9029
9030
9031
9032
9033
9034
9035
9036
9037
9038
9039
9040
9041
9042
9043
9044
9045
9046
9047
9048
9049
9050
9051
9052
9053
9054
9055
9056
9057
9058
9059
9060
9061
9062
9063
9064
9065
9066
9067
9068
9069
9070
9071
9072
9073
9074
9075
9076
9077
9078
9079
9080
9081
9082
9083
9084
9085
9086
9087
9088
9089
9090
9091
9092
9093
9094
9095
9096
9097
9098
9099
9100
9101
9102
9103
9104
9105
9106
9107
9108
9109
9110
9111
9112
9113
9114
9115
9116
9117
9118
9119
9120
9121
9122
9123
9124
9125
9126
9127
9128
9129
9130
9131
9132
9133
9134
9135
9136
9137
9138
9139
9140
9141
9142
9143
9144
9145
9146
9147
9148
9149
9150
9151
9152
9153
9154
9155
9156
9157
9158
9159
9160
9161
9162
9163
9164
9165
9166
9167
9168
9169
9170
9171
9172
9173
9174
9175
9176
9177
9178
9179
9180
9181
9182
9183
9184
9185
9186
9187
9188
9189
9190
9191
9192
9193
9194
9195
9196
9197
9198
9199
9200
9201
9202
9203
9204
9205
9206
9207
9208
9209
9210
9211
9212
9213
9214
9215
9216
9217
9218
9219
9220
9221
9222
9223
9224
9225
9226
9227
9228
9229
9230
9231
9232
9233
9234
9235
9236
9237
9238
9239
9240
9241
9242
9243
9244
9245
9246
9247
9248
9249
9250
9251
9252
9253
9254
9255
9256
9257
9258
9259
9260
9261
9262
9263
9264
9265
9266
9267
9268
9269
9270
9271
9272
9273
9274
9275
9276
9277
9278
9279
9280
9281
9282
9283
9284
9285
9286
9287
9288
9289
9290
9291
9292
9293
9294
9295
9296
9297
9298
9299
9300
9301
9302
9303
9304
9305
9306
9307
9308
9309
9310
9311
9312
9313
9314
9315
9316
9317
9318
9319
9320
9321
9322
9323
9324
9325
9326
9327
9328
9329
9330
9331
9332
9333
9334
9335
9336
9337
9338
9339
9340
9341
9342
9343
9344
9345
9346
9347
9348
9349
9350
9351
9352
9353
9354
9355
9356
9357
9358
9359
9360
9361
9362
9363
9364
9365
9366
9367
9368
9369
9370
9371
9372
9373
9374
9375
9376
9377
9378
9379
9380
9381
9382
9383
9384
9385
9386
9387
9388
9389
9390
9391
9392
9393
9394
9395
9396
9397
9398
9399
9400
9401
9402
9403
9404
9405
9406
9407
9408
9409
9410
9411
9412
9413
9414
9415
9416
9417
9418
9419
9420
9421
9422
9423
9424
9425
9426
9427
9428
9429
9430
9431
9432
9433
9434
9435
9436
9437
9438
9439
9440
9441
9442
9443
9444
9445
9446
9447
9448
9449
9450
9451
9452
9453
9454
9455
9456
9457
9458
9459
9460
9461
9462
9463
9464
9465
9466
9467
9468
9469
9470
9471
9472
9473
9474
9475
9476
9477
9478
9479
9480
9481
9482
9483
9484
9485
9486
9487
9488
9489
9490
9491
9492
9493
9494
9495
9496
9497
9498
9499
9500
9501
9502
9503
9504
9505
9506
9507
9508
9509
9510
9511
9512
9513
9514
9515
9516
9517
9518
9519
9520
9521
9522
9523
9524
9525
9526
9527
9528
9529
9530
9531
9532
9533
9534
9535
9536
9537
9538
9539
9540
9541
9542
9543
9544
9545
9546
9547
9548
9549
9550
9551
9552
9553
9554
9555
9556
9557
9558
9559
9560
9561
9562
9563
9564
9565
9566
9567
9568
9569
9570
9571
9572
9573
9574
9575
9576
9577
9578
9579
9580
9581
9582
9583
9584
9585
9586
9587
9588
9589
9590
9591
9592
9593
9594
9595
9596
9597
9598
9599
9600
9601
9602
9603
9604
9605
9606
9607
9608
9609
9610
9611
9612
9613
9614
9615
9616
9617
9618
9619
9620
9621
9622
9623
9624
9625
9626
9627
9628
9629
9630
9631
9632
9633
9634
9635
9636
9637
9638
9639
9640
9641
9642
9643
9644
9645
9646
9647
9648
9649
9650
9651
9652
9653
9654
9655
9656
9657
9658
9659
9660
9661
9662
9663
9664
9665
9666
9667
9668
9669
9670
9671
9672
9673
9674
9675
9676
9677
9678
9679
9680
9681
9682
9683
9684
9685
9686
9687
9688
9689
9690
9691
9692
9693
9694
9695
9696
9697
9698
9699
9700
9701
9702
9703
9704
9705
9706
9707
9708
9709
9710
9711
9712
9713
9714
9715
9716
9717
9718
9719
9720
9721
9722
9723
9724
9725
9726
9727
9728
9729
9730
9731
9732
9733
9734
9735
9736
9737
9738
9739
9740
9741
9742
9743
9744
9745
9746
9747
9748
9749
9750
9751
9752
9753
9754
9755
9756
9757
9758
9759
9760
9761
9762
9763
9764
9765
9766
9767
9768
9769
9770
9771
9772
9773
9774
9775
9776
9777
9778
9779
9780
9781
9782
9783
9784
9785
9786
9787
9788
9789
9790
9791
9792
9793
9794
9795
9796
9797
9798
9799
9800
9801
9802
9803
9804
9805
9806
9807
9808
9809
9810
9811
9812
9813
9814
9815
9816
9817
9818
9819
9820
9821
9822
9823
9824
9825
9826
9827
9828
9829
9830
9831
9832
9833
9834
9835
9836
9837
9838
9839
9840
9841
9842
9843
9844
9845
9846
9847
9848
9849
9850
9851
9852
9853
9854
9855
9856
9857
9858
9859
9860
9861
9862
9863
9864
9865
9866
9867
9868
9869
9870
9871
9872
9873
9874
9875
9876
9877
9878
9879
9880
9881
9882
9883
9884
9885
9886
9887
9888
9889
9890
9891
9892
9893
9894
9895
9896
9897
9898
9899
9900
9901
9902
9903
9904
9905
9906
9907
9908
9909
9910
9911
9912
9913
9914
9915
9916
9917
9918
9919
9920
9921
9922
9923
9924
9925
9926
9927
9928
9929
9930
9931
9932
9933
9934
9935
9936
9937
9938
9939
9940
9941
9942
9943
9944
9945
9946
9947
9948
9949
9950
9951
9952
9953
9954
9955
9956
9957
9958
9959
9960
9961
9962
9963
9964
9965
9966
9967
9968
9969
9970
9971
9972
9973
9974
9975
9976
9977
9978
9979
9980
9981
9982
9983
9984
9985
9986
9987
9988
9989
9990
9991
9992
9993
9994
9995
9996
9997
9998
9999
10000
10001
10002
10003
10004
10005
10006
10007
10008
10009
10010
10011
10012
10013
10014
10015
10016
10017
10018
10019
10020
10021
10022
10023
10024
10025
10026
10027
10028
10029
10030
10031
10032
10033
10034
10035
10036
10037
10038
10039
10040
10041
10042
10043
10044
10045
10046
10047
10048
10049
10050
10051
10052
10053
10054
10055
10056
10057
10058
10059
10060
10061
10062
10063
10064
10065
10066
10067
10068
10069
10070
10071
10072
10073
10074
10075
10076
10077
10078
10079
10080
10081
10082
10083
10084
10085
10086
10087
10088
10089
10090
10091
10092
10093
10094
10095
10096
10097
10098
10099
10100
10101
10102
10103
10104
10105
10106
10107
10108
10109
10110
10111
10112
10113
10114
10115
10116
10117
10118
10119
10120
10121
10122
10123
10124
10125
10126
10127
10128
10129
10130
10131
10132
10133
10134
10135
10136
10137
10138
10139
10140
10141
10142
10143
10144
10145
10146
10147
10148
10149
10150
10151
10152
10153
10154
10155
10156
10157
10158
10159
10160
10161
10162
10163
10164
10165
10166
10167
10168
10169
10170
10171
10172
10173
10174
10175
10176
10177
10178
10179
10180
10181
10182
10183
10184
10185
10186
10187
10188
10189
10190
10191
10192
10193
10194
10195
10196
10197
10198
10199
10200
10201
10202
10203
10204
10205
10206
10207
10208
10209
10210
10211
10212
10213
10214
10215
10216
10217
10218
10219
10220
10221
10222
10223
10224
10225
10226
10227
10228
10229
10230
10231
10232
10233
10234
10235
10236
10237
10238
10239
10240
10241
10242
10243
10244
10245
10246
10247
10248
10249
10250
10251
10252
10253
10254
10255
10256
10257
10258
10259
10260
10261
10262
10263
10264
10265
10266
10267
10268
10269
10270
10271
10272
10273
10274
10275
10276
10277
10278
10279
10280
10281
10282
10283
10284
10285
10286
10287
10288
10289
10290
10291
10292
10293
10294
10295
10296
10297
10298
10299
10300
10301
10302
10303
10304
10305
10306
10307
10308
10309
10310
10311
10312
10313
10314
10315
10316
10317
10318
10319
10320
10321
10322
10323
10324
10325
10326
10327
10328
10329
10330
10331
10332
10333
10334
10335
10336
10337
10338
10339
10340
10341
10342
10343
10344
10345
10346
10347
10348
10349
10350
10351
10352
10353
10354
10355
10356
10357
10358
10359
10360
10361
10362
10363
10364
10365
10366
10367
10368
10369
10370
10371
10372
10373
10374
10375
10376
10377
10378
10379
10380
10381
10382
10383
10384
10385
10386
10387
10388
10389
10390
10391
10392
10393
10394
10395
10396
10397
10398
10399
10400
10401
10402
10403
10404
10405
10406
10407
10408
10409
10410
10411
10412
10413
10414
10415
10416
10417
10418
10419
10420
10421
10422
10423
10424
10425
10426
10427
10428
10429
10430
10431
10432
10433
10434
10435
10436
10437
10438
10439
10440
10441
10442
10443
10444
10445
10446
10447
10448
10449
10450
10451
10452
10453
10454
10455
10456
10457
10458
10459
10460
10461
10462
10463
10464
10465
10466
10467
10468
10469
10470
10471
10472
10473
10474
10475
10476
10477
10478
10479
10480
10481
10482
10483
10484
10485
10486
10487
10488
10489
10490
10491
10492
10493
10494
10495
10496
10497
10498
10499
10500
10501
10502
10503
10504
10505
10506
10507
10508
10509
10510
10511
10512
10513
10514
10515
10516
10517
10518
10519
10520
10521
10522
10523
10524
10525
10526
10527
10528
10529
10530
10531
10532
10533
10534
10535
10536
10537
10538
10539
10540
10541
10542
10543
10544
10545
10546
10547
10548
10549
10550
10551
10552
10553
10554
10555
10556
10557
10558
10559
10560
10561
10562
10563
10564
10565
10566
10567
10568
10569
10570
10571
10572
10573
10574
10575
10576
10577
10578
10579
10580
10581
10582
10583
10584
10585
10586
10587
10588
10589
10590
10591
10592
10593
10594
10595
10596
10597
10598
10599
10600
10601
10602
10603
10604
10605
10606
10607
10608
10609
10610
10611
10612
10613
10614
10615
10616
10617
10618
10619
10620
10621
10622
10623
10624
10625
10626
10627
10628
10629
10630
10631
10632
10633
10634
10635
10636
10637
10638
10639
10640
10641
10642
10643
10644
10645
10646
10647
10648
10649
10650
10651
10652
10653
10654
10655
10656
10657
10658
10659
10660
10661
10662
10663
10664
10665
10666
10667
10668
10669
10670
10671
10672
10673
10674
10675
10676
10677
10678
10679
10680
10681
10682
10683
10684
10685
10686
10687
10688
10689
10690
10691
10692
10693
10694
10695
10696
10697
10698
10699
10700
10701
10702
10703
10704
10705
10706
10707
10708
10709
10710
10711
10712
10713
10714
10715
10716
10717
10718
10719
10720
10721
10722
10723
10724
10725
10726
10727
10728
10729
10730
10731
10732
10733
10734
10735
10736
10737
10738
10739
10740
10741
10742
10743
10744
10745
10746
10747
10748
10749
10750
10751
10752
10753
10754
10755
10756
10757
10758
10759
10760
10761
10762
10763
10764
10765
10766
10767
10768
10769
10770
10771
10772
10773
10774
10775
10776
10777
10778
10779
10780
10781
10782
10783
10784
10785
10786
10787
10788
10789
10790
10791
10792
10793
10794
10795
10796
10797
10798
10799
10800
10801
10802
10803
10804
10805
10806
10807
10808
10809
10810
10811
10812
10813
10814
10815
10816
10817
10818
10819
10820
10821
10822
10823
10824
10825
10826
10827
10828
10829
10830
10831
10832
10833
10834
10835
10836
10837
10838
10839
10840
10841
10842
10843
10844
10845
10846
10847
10848
10849
10850
10851
10852
10853
10854
10855
10856
10857
10858
10859
10860
10861
10862
10863
10864
10865
10866
10867
10868
10869
10870
10871
10872
10873
10874
10875
10876
10877
10878
10879
10880
10881
10882
10883
10884
10885
10886
10887
10888
10889
10890
10891
10892
10893
10894
10895
10896
10897
10898
10899
10900
10901
10902
10903
10904
10905
10906
10907
10908
10909
10910
10911
10912
10913
10914
10915
10916
10917
10918
10919
10920
10921
10922
10923
10924
10925
10926
10927
10928
10929
10930
10931
10932
10933
10934
10935
10936
10937
10938
10939
10940
10941
10942
10943
10944
10945
10946
10947
10948
10949
10950
10951
10952
10953
10954
10955
10956
10957
10958
10959
10960
10961
10962
10963
10964
10965
10966
10967
10968

<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN">
<html>
<head>
<title>New File</title>
<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content=
"text/html; charset=iso-8859-1">
<style type="text/css">
<!--
body {margin:10%; text-align:justify}
blockquote {font-size:14pt}
P {font-size:14pt}
-->
</style>
</head>
<body>
The Project Gutenberg Etext of Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes by Sir
Arthur Conan Doyle is #13 in our series. 

<p>Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to
check the copyright laws for your country before posting these
files!!</p>

<p>Please take a look at the important information in this
header. We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk,
keeping an electronic path open for the next readers. Do not
remove this.</p>

<p>**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic
Texts**</p>

<p>**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since
1971**</p>

<p>*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and
Donations*</p>

<p>Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and
further information is included below. We need your
donations.</p>

<p>Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes<br>
by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle</p>

<p>March, 1997 [Etext #834]</p>

<p>The Project Gutenberg Etext of Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes by
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle******</p>

<p>This file should be named memho10h.html or
memho10h.zip*****</p>

<p>Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER,
memho11h.html.<br>
 VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER,
memho10i.html.</p>

<p>This etext was reformatted for html by James Rose of Granada
Hills, CA.</p>

<p>We are now trying to release all our books one month in
advance of the official release dates, for time for better
editing.</p>

<p>Please note: neither this list nor its contents are final till
midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement.
The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at
Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A
preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment
and editing by those who wish to do so. To be sure you have an up
to date first edition [xxxxx10x.xxx] please check file sizes in
the first week of the next month. Since our ftp program has a bug
in it that scrambles the date [tried to fix and failed] a look at
the file size will have to do, but we will try to see a new copy
has at least one byte more or less.</p>

<p>Information about Project Gutenberg (one page)</p>

<p>We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work.
The fifty hours is one conservative estimate for how long it we
take to get any etext selected, entered, proofread, edited,
copyright searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written,
etc. This projected audience is one hundred million readers. If
our value per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we
produce $2 million dollars per hour this year as we release
thirty-two text files per month, or 384 more Etexts in 1997 for a
total of 1000+. If these reach just 10% of the computerized
population, then the total should reach over 100 billion Etexts
given away.</p>

<p>The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion
Etext Files by the December 31, 2001. [10,000 x
100,000,000=Trillion] This is ten thousand titles each to one
hundred million readers, which is only 10% of the present number
of computer users. 2001 should have at least twice as many
computer users as that, so it will require us reaching less than
5% of the users in 2001.</p>

<p>We need your donations more than ever!</p>

<p> All donations should be made to "Project Gutenberg/CMU": and
are tax deductible to the extent allowable by law. (CMU =
Carnegie- Mellon University).</p>

<p> For these and other matters, please mail to:</p>

<p>Project Gutenberg<br>
 P. O. Box 2782<br>
 Champaign, IL 61825</p>

<p> When all other email fails try our Executive Director:
Michael S. Hart [hart@pobox.com]</p>

<p>We would prefer to send you this information by email
(Internet, Bitnet, Compuserve, ATTMAIL or MCImail).</p>

<p>If you have an FTP program (or emulator), please FTP directly
to the Project Gutenberg archives: [Mac users, do NOT point and
click. . .type]</p>

<p>ftp uiarchive.cso.uiuc.edu<br>
 login: anonymous<br>
 password: your@login<br>
 cd etext/etext90 through /etext98<br>
 or cd etext/articles [get suggest gut for more information] dir
[to see files]<br>
 get or mget [to get files. . .set bin for zip files] GET
INDEX?00.GUT<br>
 for a list of books<br>
 and<br>
 GET NEW GUT for general information<br>
 and<br>
 MGET GUT* for newsletters.</p>

<p> **Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal
advisor** (Three Pages)</p>

<p> <b>***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN
ETEXTS**START***</b></p>

<p> Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers.
They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with
your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from someone
other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our fault. So,
among other things, this "Small Print!" statement disclaims most
of our liability to you. It also tells you how you can distribute
copies of this etext if you want to.</p>

<p>*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS ETEXT</p>

<p> By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
etext, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept this
"Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive a refund
of the money (if any) you paid for this etext by sending a
request within 30 days of receiving it to the person you got it
from. If you received this etext on a physical medium (such as a
disk), you must return it with your request.</p>

<p>ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM ETEXTS</p>

<p> This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-
tm etexts, is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor
Michael S. Hart through the Project Gutenberg Association at
Carnegie-Mellon University (the "Project"). Among other things,
this means that no one owns a United States copyright on or for
this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and distribute it
in the United States without permission and without paying
copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth below, apply if you
wish to copy and distribute this etext under the Project's
"PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark.</p>

<p>To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable
efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain
works. Despite these efforts, the Project's etexts and any medium
they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other things, Defects
may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or corrupt data,
transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual property
infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other etext medium,
a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read
by your equipment.</p>

<p>LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES</p>

<p> But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below,
[1] the Project (and any other party you may receive this etext
from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext) disclaims all liability to
you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal fees, and
[2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR UNDER STRICT
LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, INCLUDING BUT
NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR INCIDENTAL
DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
DAMAGES.</p>

<p> If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of
receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) you
paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that time to
the person you received it from. If you received it on a physical
medium, you must return it with your note, and such person may
choose to alternatively give you a replacement copy. If you
received it electronically, such person may choose to
alternatively give you a second opportunity to receive it
electronically.</p>

<p> THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER
WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS TO
THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED
TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A PARTICULAR
PURPOSE.</p>

<p> Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or
the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the
above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you
may have other legal rights.</p>

<p> INDEMNITY</p>

<p> You will indemnify and hold the Project, its directors,
officers, members and agents harmless from all liability, cost
and expense, including legal fees, that arise directly or
indirectly from any of the following that you do or cause: [1]
distribution of this etext, [2] alteration, modification, or
addition to the etext, or [3] any Defect.</p>

<p>DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" You may distribute
copies of this etext electronically, or by disk, book or any
other medium if you either delete this "Small Print!" and all
other references to Project Gutenberg, or:</p>

<p> [1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this
requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the etext or
this "small print!" statement. You may however, if you wish,
distribute this etext in machine readable binary, compressed,
mark-up, or proprietary form, including any form resulting from
conversion by word processing or hypertext software, but only so
long as *EITHER*:</p>

<p> [*] The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable, and does
*not* contain characters other than those intended by the author
of the work, although tilde (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_)
characters may be used to convey punctuation intended by the
author, and additional characters may be used to indicate
hypertext links; OR</p>

<p> [*] The etext may be readily converted by the reader at no
expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent form by the
program that displays the etext (as is the case, for instance,
with most word processors); OR</p>

<p> [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at no
additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the etext in its
original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC or other equivalent
proprietary form).</p>

<p> [2] Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this
"Small Print!" statement.</p>

<p> [3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Project of 20% of the
net profits you derive calculated using the method you already
use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you don't derive
profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are payable to "Project
Gutenberg Association/Carnegie-Mellon University" within the 60
days following each date you prepare (or were legally required to
prepare) your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return.</p>

<p>WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO?
The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time,
scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty
free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution you
can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg
Association / Carnegie-Mellon University".</p>

<p><b>*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN
ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END*</b></p>

<hr>
<h1 align="Center">Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes</h1>

<h1 align="Center">by Arthur Conan Doyle</h1>

<h3 align="Center">Adventure I</h3>

<h3 align="Center">Silver Blaze</h3>

<p><br>
</p>

<p>"I am afraid, Watson, that I shall have to go," said Holmes,
as we sat down together to our breakfast one morning.</p>

<p>"Go! Where to?"</p>

<p>"To Dartmoor; to King's Pyland."</p>

<p>I was not surprised. Indeed, my only wonder was that he had
not already been mixed upon this extraordinary case, which was
the one topic of conversation through the length and breadth of
England. For a whole day my companion had rambled about the room
with his chin upon his chest and his brows knitted, charging and
recharging his pipe with the strongest black tobacco, and
absolutely deaf to any of my questions or remarks. Fresh editions
of every paper had been sent up by our news agent, only to be
glanced over and tossed down into a corner. Yet, silent as he
was, I knew perfectly well what it was over which he was
brooding. There was but one problem before the public which could
challenge his powers of analysis, and that was the singular
disappearance of the favorite for the Wessex Cup, and the tragic
murder of its trainer. When, therefore, he suddenly announced his
intention of setting out for the scene of the drama it was only
what I had both expected and hoped for.</p>

<p>"I should be most happy to go down with you if I should not be
in the way," said I.</p>

<p>"My dear Watson, you would confer a great favor upon me by
coming. And I think that your time will not be misspent, for
there are points about the case which promise to make it an
absolutely unique one. We have, I think, just time to catch our
train at Paddington, and I will go further into the matter upon
our journey. You would oblige me by bringing with you your very
excellent field-glass."</p>

<p>And so it happened that an hour or so later I found myself in
the corner of a first-class carriage flying along en route for
Exeter, while Sherlock Holmes, with his sharp, eager face framed
in his ear-flapped travelling-cap, dipped rapidly into the bundle
of fresh papers which he had procured at Paddington. We had left
Reading far behind us before he thrust the last one of them under
the seat, and offered me his cigar-case.</p>

<p>"We are going well," said he, looking out the window and
glancing at his watch. "Our rate at present is fifty-three and a
half miles an hour."</p>

<p>"I have not observed the quarter-mile posts," said I.</p>

<p>"Nor have I. But the telegraph posts upon this line are sixty
yards apart, and the calculation is a simple one. I presume that
you have looked into this matter of the murder of John Straker
and the disappearance of Silver Blaze?"</p>

<p>"I have seen what the Telegraph and the Chronicle have to
say."</p>

<p>"It is one of those cases where the art of the reasoner should
be used rather for the sifting of details than for the acquiring
of fresh evidence. The tragedy has been so uncommon, so complete
and of such personal importance to so many people, that we are
suffering from a plethora of surmise, conjecture, and hypothesis.
The difficulty is to detach the framework of fact--of absolute
undeniable fact--from the embellishments of theorists and
reporters. Then, having established ourselves upon this sound
basis, it is our duty to see what inferences may be drawn and
what are the special points upon which the whole mystery turns.
On Tuesday evening I received telegrams from both Colonel Ross,
the owner of the horse, and from Inspector Gregory, who is
looking after the case, inviting my cooperation.</p>

<p>"Tuesday evening!" I exclaimed. "And this is Thursday morning.
Why didn't you go down yesterday?"</p>

<p>"Because I made a blunder, my dear Watson--which is, I am
afraid, a more common occurrence than any one would think who
only knew me through your memoirs. The fact is that I could not
believe is possible that the most remarkable horse in England
could long remain concealed, especially in so sparsely inhabited
a place as the north of Dartmoor. From hour to hour yesterday I
expected to hear that he had been found, and that his abductor
was the murderer of John Straker. When, however, another morning
had come, and I found that beyond the arrest of young Fitzroy
Simpson nothing had been done, I felt that it was time for me to
take action. Yet in some ways I feel that yesterday has not been
wasted."</p>

<p>"You have formed a theory, then?"</p>

<p>"At least I have got a grip of the essential facts of the
case. I shall enumerate them to you, for nothing clears up a case
so much as stating it to another person, and I can hardly expect
your co-operation if I do not show you the position from which we
start."</p>

<p>I lay back against the cushions, puffing at my cigar, while
Holmes, leaning forward, with his long, thin forefinger checking
off the points upon the palm of his left hand, gave me a sketch
of the events which had led to our journey.</p>

<p>"Silver Blaze," said he, "is from the Somomy stock, and holds
as brilliant a record as his famous ancestor. He is now in his
fifth year, and has brought in turn each of the prizes of the
turf to Colonel Ross, his fortunate owner. Up to the time of the
catastrophe he was the first favorite for the Wessex Cup, the
betting being three to one on him. He has always, however, been a
prime favorite with the racing public, and has never yet
disappointed them, so that even at those odds enormous sums of
money have been laid upon him. It is obvious, therefore, that
there were many people who had the strongest interest in
preventing Silver Blaze from being there at the fall of the flag
next Tuesday.</p>

<p>"The fact was, of course, appreciated at King's Pyland, where
the Colonel's training-stable is situated. Every precaution was
taken to guard the favorite. The trainer, John Straker, is a
retired jockey who rode in Colonel Ross's colors before he became
too heavy for the weighing-chair. He has served the Colonel for
five years as jockey and for seven as trainer, and has always
shown himself to be a zealous and honest servant. Under him were
three lads; for the establishment was a small one, containing
only four horses in all. One of these lads sat up each night in
the stable, while the others slept in the loft. All three bore
excellent characters. John Straker, who is a married man, lived
in a small villa about two hundred yards from the stables. He has
no children, keeps one maid-servant, and is comfortably off. The
country round is very lonely, but about half a mile to the north
there is a small cluster of villas which have been built by a
Tavistock contractor for the use of invalids and others who may
wish to enjoy the pure Dartmoor air. Tavistock itself lies two
miles to the west, while across the moor, also about two miles
distant, is the larger training establishment of Mapleton, which
belongs to Lord Backwater, and is managed by Silas Brown. In
every other direction the moor is a complete wilderness,
inhabited only be a few roaming gypsies. Such was the general
situation last Monday night when the catastrophe occurred.</p>

<p>"On that evening the horses had been exercised and watered as
usual, and the stables were locked up at nine o'clock. Two of the
lads walked up to the trainer's house, where they had supper in
the kitchen, while the third, Ned Hunter, remained on guard. At a
few minutes after nine the maid, Edith Baxter, carried down to
the stables his supper, which consisted of a dish of curried
mutton. She took no liquid, as there was a water-tap in the
stables, and it was the rule that the lad on duty should drink
nothing else. The maid carried a lantern with her, as it was very
dark and the path ran across the open moor.</p>

<p>"Edith Baxter was within thirty yards of the stables, when a
man appeared out of the darkness and called to her to stop. As he
stepped into the circle of yellow light thrown by the lantern she
saw that he was a person of gentlemanly bearing, dressed in a
gray suit of tweeds, with a cloth cap. He wore gaiters, and
carried a heavy stick with a knob to it. She was most impressed,
however, by the extreme pallor of his face and by the nervousness
of his manner. His age, she thought, would be rather over thirty
than under it.</p>

<p>"'Can you tell me where I am?' he asked. 'I had almost made up
my mind to sleep on the moor, when I saw the light of your
lantern.'</p>

<p>"'You are close to the King's Pyland training-stables,' said
she.</p>

<p>"'Oh, indeed! What a stroke of luck!' he cried. 'I understand
that a stable-boy sleeps there alone every night. Perhaps that is
his supper which you are carrying to him. Now I am sure that you
would not be too proud to earn the price of a new dress, would
you?' He took a piece of white paper folded up out of his
waistcoat pocket. 'See that the boy has this to-night, and you
shall have the prettiest frock that money can buy.'</p>

<p>"She was frightened by the earnestness of his manner, and ran
past him to the window through which she was accustomed to hand
the meals. It was already opened, and Hunter was seated at the
small table inside. She had begun to tell him of what had
happened, when the stranger came up again.</p>

<p>"'Good-evening,' said he, looking through the window. 'I
wanted to have a word with you.' The girl has sworn that as he
spoke she noticed the corner of the little paper packet
protruding from his closed hand.</p>

<p>"'What business have you here?' asked the lad.</p>

<p>"'It's business that may put something into your pocket,' said
the other. 'You've two horses in for the Wessex Cup--Silver Blaze
and Bayard. Let me have the straight tip and you won't be a
loser. Is it a fact that at the weights Bayard could give the
other a hundred yards in five furlongs, and that the stable have
put their money on him?' "'So, you're one of those damned touts!'
cried the lad. 'I'll show you how we serve them in King's
Pyland.' He sprang up and rushed across the stable to unloose the
dog. The girl fled away to the house, but as she ran she looked
back and saw that the stranger was leaning through the window. A
minute later, however, when Hunter rushed out with the hound he
was gone, and though he ran all round the buildings he failed to
find any trace of him."</p>

<p>"One moment," I asked. "Did the stable-boy, when he ran out
with the dog, leave the door unlocked behind him?"</p>

<p>"Excellent, Watson, excellent!" murmured my companion. "The
importance of the point struck me so forcibly that I sent a
special wire to Dartmoor yesterday to clear the matter up. The
boy locked the door before he left it. The window, I may add, was
not large enough for a man to get through.</p>

<p>"Hunter waited until his fellow-grooms had returned, when he
sent a message to the trainer and told him what had occurred.
Straker was excited at hearing the account, although he does not
seem to have quite realized its true significance. It left him,
however, vaguely uneasy, and Mrs. Straker, waking at one in the
morning, found that he was dressing. In reply to her inquiries,
he said that he could not sleep on account of his anxiety about
the horses, and that he intended to walk down to the stables to
see that all was well. She begged him to remain at home, as she
could hear the rain pattering against the window, but in spite of
her entreaties he pulled on his large mackintosh and left the
house.</p>

<p>"Mrs. Straker awoke at seven in the morning, to find that her
husband had not yet returned. She dressed herself hastily, called
the maid, and set off for the stables. The door was open; inside,
huddled together upon a chair, Hunter was sunk in a state of
absolute stupor, the favorite's stall was empty, and there were
no signs of his trainer.</p>

<p>"The two lads who slept in the chaff-cutting loft above the
harness-room were quickly aroused. They had heard nothing during
the night, for they are both sound sleepers. Hunter was obviously
under the influence of some powerful drug, and as no sense could
be got out of him, he was left to sleep it off while the two lads
and the two women ran out in search of the absentees. They still
had hopes that the trainer had for some reason taken out the
horse for early exercise, but on ascending the knoll near the
house, from which all the neighboring moors were visible, they
not only could see no signs of the missing favorite, but they
perceived something which warned them that they were in the
presence of a tragedy.</p>

<p>"About a quarter of a mile from the stables John Straker's
overcoat was flapping from a furze-bush. Immediately beyond there
was a bowl-shaped depression in the moor, and at the bottom of
this was found the dead body of the unfortunate trainer. His head
had been shattered by a savage blow from some heavy weapon, and
he was wounded on the thigh, where there was a long, clean cut,
inflicted evidently by some very sharp instrument. It was clear,
however, that Straker had defended himself vigorously against his
assailants, for in his right hand he held a small knife, which
was clotted with blood up to the handle, while in his left he
clasped a red and black silk cravat, which was recognized by the
maid as having been worn on the preceding evening by the stranger
who had visited the stables. Hunter, on recovering from his
stupor, was also quite positive as to the ownership of the
cravat. He was equally certain that the same stranger had, while
standing at the window, drugged his curried mutton, and so
deprived the stables of their watchman. As to the missing horse,
there were abundant proofs in the mud which lay at the bottom of
the fatal hollow that he had been there at the time of the
struggle. But from that morning he has disappeared, and although
a large reward has been offered, and all the gypsies of Dartmoor
are on the alert, no news has come of him. Finally, an analysis
has shown that the remains of his supper left by the stable-lad
contain an appreciable quantity of powdered opium, while the
people at the house partook of the same dish on the same night
without any ill effect.</p>

<p>"Those are the main facts of the case, stripped of all
surmise, and stated as baldly as possible. I shall now
recapitulate what the police have done in the matter.</p>

<p>"Inspector Gregory, to whom the case has been committed, is an
extremely competent officer. Were he but gifted with imagination
he might rise to great heights in his profession. On his arrival
he promptly found and arrested the man upon whom suspicion
naturally rested. There was little difficulty in finding him, for
he inhabited one of those villas which I have mentioned. His
name, it appears, was Fitzroy Simpson. He was a man of excellent
birth and education, who had squandered a fortune upon the turf,
and who lived now by doing a little quiet and genteel book-making
in the sporting clubs of London. An examination of his
betting-book shows that bets to the amount of five thousand
pounds had been registered by him against the favorite. On being
arrested he volunteered that statement that he had come down to
Dartmoor in the hope of getting some information about the King's
Pyland horses, and also about Desborough, the second favorite,
which was in charge of Silas Brown at the Mapleton stables. He
did not attempt to deny that he had acted as described upon the
evening before, but declared that he had no sinister designs, and
had simply wished to obtain first-hand information. When
confronted with his cravat, he turned very pale, and was utterly
unable to account for its presence in the hand of the murdered
man. His wet clothing showed that he had been out in the storm of
the night before, and his stick, which was a Penang-lawyer
weighted with lead, was just such a weapon as might, by repeated
blows, have inflicted the terrible injuries to which the trainer
had succumbed. On the other hand, there was no wound upon his
person, while the state of Straker's knife would show that one at
least of his assailants must bear his mark upon him. There you
have it all in a nutshell, Watson, and if you can give me any
light I shall be infinitely obliged to you."</p>

<p>I had listened with the greatest interest to the statement
which Holmes, with characteristic clearness, had laid before me.
Though most of the facts were familiar to me, I had not
sufficiently appreciated their relative importance, nor their
connection to each other.</p>

<p>"Is in not possible," I suggested, "that the incised would
upon Straker may have been caused by his own knife in the
convulsive struggles which follow any brain injury?"</p>

<p>"It is more than possible; it is probable," said Holmes. "In
that case one of the main points in favor of the accused
disappears."</p>

<p>"And yet," said I, "even now I fail to understand what the
theory of the police can be."</p>

<p>"I am afraid that whatever theory we state has very grave
objections to it," returned my companion. "The police imagine, I
take it, that this Fitzroy Simpson, having drugged the lad, and
having in some way obtained a duplicate key, opened the stable
door and took out the horse, with the intention, apparently, of
kidnapping him altogether. His bridle is missing, so that Simpson
must have put this on. Then, having left the door open behind
him, he was leading the horse away over the moor, when he was
either met or overtaken by the trainer. A row naturally ensued.
Simpson beat out the trainer's brains with his heavy stick
without receiving any injury from the small knife which Straker
used in self-defence, and then the thief either led the horse on
to some secret hiding-place, or else it may have bolted during
the struggle, and be now wandering out on the moors. That is the
case as it appears to the police, and improbable as it is, all
other explanations are more improbable still. However, I shall
very quickly test the matter when I am once upon the spot, and
until then I cannot really see how we can get much further than
our present position."</p>

<p>It was evening before we reached the little town of Tavistock,
which lies, like the boss of a shield, in the middle of the huge
circle of Dartmoor. Two gentlemen were awaiting us in the
station--the one a tall, fair man with lion-like hair and beard
and curiously penetrating light blue eyes; the other a small,
alert person, very neat and dapper, in a frock-coat and gaiters,
with trim little side-whiskers and an eye-glass. The latter was
Colonel Ross, the well-known sportsman; the other, Inspector
Gregory, a man who was rapidly making his name in the English
detective service.</p>

<p>"I am delighted that you have come down, Mr. Holmes," said the
Colonel. "The Inspector here has done all that could possibly be
suggested, but I wish to leave no stone unturned in trying to
avenge poor Straker and in recovering my horse."</p>

<p>"Have there been any fresh developments?" asked Holmes.</p>

<p>"I am sorry to say that we have made very little progress,"
said the Inspector. "We have an open carriage outside, and as you
would no doubt like to see the place before the light fails, we
might talk it over as we drive."</p>

<p>A minute later we were all seated in a comfortable landau, and
were rattling through the quaint old Devonshire city. Inspector
Gregory was full of his case, and poured out a stream of remarks,
while Holmes threw in an occasional question or interjection.
Colonel Ross leaned back with his arms folded and his hat tilted
over his eyes, while I listened with interest to the dialogue of
the two detectives. Gregory was formulating his theory, which was
almost exactly what Holmes had foretold in the train.</p>

<p>"The net is drawn pretty close round Fitzroy Simpson," he
remarked, "and I believe myself that he is our man. At the same
time I recognize that the evidence is purely circumstantial, and
that some new development may upset it."</p>

<p>"How about Straker's knife?"</p>

<p>"We have quite come to the conclusion that he wounded himself
in his fall."</p>

<p>"My friend Dr. Watson made that suggestion to me as we came
down. If so, it would tell against this man Simpson."</p>

<p>"Undoubtedly. He has neither a knife nor any sign of a wound.
The evidence against him is certainly very strong. He had a great
interest in the disappearance of the favorite. He lies under
suspicion of having poisoned the stable-boy, he was undoubtedly
out in the storm, he was armed with a heavy stick, and his cravat
was found in the dead man's hand. I really think we have enough
to go before a jury."</p>

<p>Holmes shook his head. "A clever counsel would tear it all to
rags," said he. "Why should he take the horse out of the stable?
If he wished to injure it why could he not do it there? Has a
duplicate key been found in his possession? What chemist sold him
the powdered opium? Above all, where could he, a stranger to the
district, hide a horse, and such a horse as this? What is his own
explanation as to the paper which he wished the maid to give to
the stable-boy?"</p>

<p>"He says that it was a ten-pound note. One was found in his
purse. But your other difficulties are not so formidable as they
seem. He is not a stranger to the district. He has twice lodged
at Tavistock in the summer. The opium was probably brought from
London. The key, having served its purpose, would be hurled away.
The horse may be at the bottom of one of the pits or old mines
upon the moor."</p>

<p>"What does he say about the cravat?"</p>

<p>"He acknowledges that it is his, and declares that he had lost
it. But a new element has been introduced into the case which may
account for his leading the horse from the stable."</p>

<p>Holmes pricked up his ears.</p>

<p>"We have found traces which show that a party of gypsies
encamped on Monday night within a mile of the spot where the
murder took place. On Tuesday they were gone. Now, presuming that
there was some understanding between Simpson and these gypsies,
might he not have been leading the horse to them when he was
overtaken, and may they not have him now?"</p>

<p>"It is certainly possible."</p>

<p>"The moor is being scoured for these gypsies. I have also
examined every stable and out-house in Tavistock, and for a
radius of ten miles."</p>

<p>"There is another training-stable quite close, I
understand?"</p>

<p>"Yes, and that is a factor which we must certainly not
neglect. As Desborough, their horse, was second in the betting,
they had an interest in the disappearance of the favorite. Silas
Brown, the trainer, is known to have had large bets upon the
event, and he was no friend to poor Straker. We have, however,
examined the stables, and there is nothing to connect him with
the affair."</p>

<p>"And nothing to connect this man Simpson with the interests of
the Mapleton stables?"</p>

<p>"Nothing at all."</p>

<p>Holmes leaned back in the carriage, and the conversation
ceased. A few minutes later our driver pulled up at a neat little
red-brick villa with overhanging eaves which stood by the road.
Some distance off, across a paddock, lay a long gray-tiled
out-building. In every other direction the low curves of the
moor, bronze-colored from the fading ferns, stretched away to the
sky-line, broken only by the steeples of Tavistock, and by a
cluster of houses away to the westward which marked the Mapleton
stables. We all sprang out with the exception of Holmes, who
continued to lean back with his eyes fixed upon the sky in front
of him, entirely absorbed in his own thoughts. It was only when I
touched his arm that he roused himself with a violent start and
stepped out of the carriage.</p>

<p>"Excuse me," said he, turning to Colonel Ross, who had looked
at him in some surprise. "I was day-dreaming." There was a gleam
in his eyes and a suppressed excitement in his manner which
convinced me, used as I was to his ways, that his hand was upon a
clue, though I could not imagine where he had found it.</p>

<p>"Perhaps you would prefer at once to go on to the scene of the
crime, Mr. Holmes?" said Gregory.</p>

<p>"I think that I should prefer to stay here a little and go
into one or two questions of detail. Straker was brought back
here, I presume?"</p>

<p>"Yes; he lies upstairs. The inquest is to-morrow."</p>

<p>"He has been in your service some years, Colonel Ross?"</p>

<p>"I have always found him an excellent servant."</p>

<p>"I presume that you made an inventory of what he had in this
pockets at the time of his death, Inspector?"</p>

<p>"I have the things themselves in the sitting-room, if you
would care to see them."</p>

<p>"I should be very glad." We all filed into the front room and
sat round the central table while the Inspector unlocked a square
tin box and laid a small heap of things before us. There was a
box of vestas, two inches of tallow candle, an A D P brier-root
pipe, a pouch of seal-skin with half an ounce of long-cut
Cavendish, a silver watch with a gold chain, five sovereigns in
gold, an aluminum pencil-case, a few papers, and an ivory-handled
knife with a very delicate, inflexible bade marked Weiss &amp; Co.,
London.</p>

<p>"This is a very singular knife," said Holmes, lifting it up
and examining it minutely. "I presume, as I see blood-stains upon
it, that it is the one which was found in the dead man's grasp.
Watson, this knife is surely in your line?"</p>

<p>"It is what we call a cataract knife," said I.</p>

<p>"I thought so. A very delicate blade devised for very delicate
work. A strange thing for a man to carry with him upon a rough
expedition, especially as it would not shut in his pocket."</p>

<p>"The tip was guarded by a disk of cork which we found beside
his body," said the Inspector. "His wife tells us that the knife
had lain upon the dressing-table, and that he had picked it up as
he left the room. It was a poor weapon, but perhaps the best that
he could lay his hands on at the moment."</p>

<p>"Very possible. How about these papers?"</p>

<p>"Three of them are receipted hay-dealers' accounts. One of
them is a letter of instructions from Colonel Ross. This other is
a milliner's account for thirty-seven pounds fifteen made out by
Madame Lesurier, of Bond Street, to William Derbyshire. Mrs.
Straker tells us that Derbyshire was a friend of her husband's
and that occasionally his letters were addressed here."</p>

<p>"Madam Derbyshire had somewhat expensive tastes," remarked
Holmes, glancing down the account. "Twenty-two guineas is rather
heavy for a single costume. However there appears to be nothing
more to learn, and we may now go down to the scene of the
crime."</p>

<p>As we emerged from the sitting-room a woman, who had been
waiting in the passage, took a step forward and laid her hand
upon the Inspector's sleeve. Her face was haggard and thin and
eager, stamped with the print of a recent horror.</p>

<p>"Have you got them? Have you found them?" she panted.</p>

<p>"No, Mrs. Straker. But Mr. Holmes here has come from London to
help us, and we shall do all that is possible."</p>

<p>"Surely I met you in Plymouth at a garden-party some little
time ago, Mrs. Straker?" said Holmes.</p>

<p>"No, sir; you are mistaken."</p>

<p>"Dear me! Why, I could have sworn to it. You wore a costume of
dove-colored silk with ostrich-feather trimming."</p>

<p>"I never had such a dress, sir," answered the lady.</p>

<p>"Ah, that quite settles it," said Holmes. And with an apology
he followed the Inspector outside. A short walk across the moor
took us to the hollow in which the body had been found. At the
brink of it was the furze-bush upon which the coat had been
hung.</p>

<p>"There was no wind that night, I understand," said Holmes.</p>

<p>"None; but very heavy rain."</p>

<p>"In that case the overcoat was not blown against the
furze-bush, but placed there."</p>

<p>"Yes, it was laid across the bush."</p>

<p>"You fill me with interest, I perceive that the ground has
been trampled up a good deal. No doubt many feet have been here
since Monday night."</p>

<p>"A piece of matting has been laid here at the side, and we
have all stood upon that."</p>

<p>"Excellent."</p>

<p>"In this bag I have one of the boots which Straker wore, one
of Fitzroy Simpson's shoes, and a cast horseshoe of Silver
Blaze."</p>

<p>"My dear Inspector, you surpass yourself!" Homes took the bag,
and, descending into the hollow, he pushed the matting into a
more central position. Then stretching himself upon his face and
leaning his chin upon his hands, he made a careful study of the
trampled mud in front of him. "Hullo!" said he, suddenly. "What's
this?" It was a wax vesta half burned, which was so coated with
mud that it looked at first like a little chip of wood.</p>

<p>"I cannot think how I came to overlook it," said the
Inspector, with an expression of annoyance.</p>

<p>"It was invisible, buried in the mud. I only saw it because I
was looking for it."</p>

<p>"What! You expected to find it?"</p>

<p>"I thought it not unlikely."</p>

<p>He took the boots from the bag, and compared the impressions
of each of them with marks upon the ground. Then he clambered up
to the rim of the hollow, and crawled about among the ferns and
bushes.</p>

<p>"I am afraid that there are no more tracks," said the
Inspector. "I have examined the ground very carefully for a
hundred yards in each direction."</p>

<p>"Indeed!" said Holmes, rising. "I should not have the
impertinence to do it again after what you say. But I should like
to take a little walk over the moor before it grows dark, that I
may know my ground to-morrow, and I think that I shall put this
horseshoe into my pocket for luck."</p>

<p>Colonel Ross, who had shown some signs of impatience at my
companion's quiet and systematic method of work, glanced at his
watch. "I wish you would come back with me, Inspector," said he.
"There are several points on which I should like your advice, and
especially as to whether we do not owe it to the public to remove
our horse's name from the entries for the Cup."</p>

<p>"Certainly not," cried Holmes, with decision. "I should let
the name stand."</p>

<p>The Colonel bowed. "I am very glad to have had your opinion,
sir," said he. "You will find us at poor Straker's house when you
have finished your walk, and we can drive together into
Tavistock."</p>

<p>He turned back with the Inspector, while Holmes and I walked
slowly across the moor. The sun was beginning to sink behind the
stables of Mapleton, and the long, sloping plain in front of us
was tinged with gold, deepening into rich, ruddy browns where the
faded ferns and brambles caught the evening light. But the
glories of the landscape were all wasted upon my companion, who
was sunk in the deepest thought.</p>

<p>"It's this way, Watson," said he at last. "We may leave the
question of who killed John Straker for the instant, and confine
ourselves to finding out what has become of the horse. Now,
supposing that he broke away during or after the tragedy, where
could he have gone to? The horse is a very gregarious creature.
If left to himself his instincts would have been either to return
to King's Pyland or go over to Mapleton. Why should he run wild
upon the moor? He would surely have been seen by now. And why
should gypsies kidnap him? These people always clear out when
they hear of trouble, for they do not wish to be pestered by the
police. They could not hope to sell such a horse. They would run
a great risk and gain nothing by taking him. Surely that is
clear."</p>

<p>"Where is he, then?"</p>

<p>"I have already said that he must have gone to King's Pyland
or to Mapleton. He is not at King's Pyland. Therefore he is at
Mapleton. Let us take that as a working hypothesis and see what
it leads us to. This part of the moor, as the Inspector remarked,
is very hard and dry. But if falls away towards Mapleton, and you
can see from here that there is a long hollow over yonder, which
must have been very wet on Monday night. If our supposition is
correct, then the horse must have crossed that, and there is the
point where we should look for his tracks."</p>

<p>We had been walking briskly during this conversation, and a
few more minutes brought us to the hollow in question. At Holmes'
request I walked down the bank to the right, and he to the left,
but I had not taken fifty paces before I heard him give a shout,
and saw him waving his hand to me. The track of a horse was
plainly outlined in the soft earth in front of him, and the shoe
which he took from his pocket exactly fitted the impression.</p>

<p>"See the value of imagination," said Holmes. "It is the one
quality which Gregory lacks. We imagined what might have
happened, acted upon the supposition, and find ourselves
justified. Let us proceed."</p>

<p>We crossed the marshy bottom and passed over a quarter of a
mile of dry, hard turf. Again the ground sloped, and again we
came on the tracks. Then we lost them for half a mile, but only
to pick them up once more quite close to Mapleton. It was Holmes
who saw them first, and he stood pointing with a look of triumph
upon his face. A man's track was visible beside the horse's.</p>

<p>"The horse was alone before," I cried.</p>

<p>"Quite so. It was alone before. Hullo, what is this?"</p>

<p>The double track turned sharp off and took the direction of
King's Pyland. Homes whistled, and we both followed along after
it. His eyes were on the trail, but I happened to look a little
to one side, and saw to my surprise the same tracks coming back
again in the opposite direction.</p>

<p>"One for you, Watson," said Holmes, when I pointed it out.
"You have saved us a long walk, which would have brought us back
on our own traces. Let us follow the return track."</p>

<p>We had not to go far. It ended at the paving of asphalt which
led up to the gates of the Mapleton stables. As we approached, a
groom ran out from them.</p>

<p>"We don't want any loiterers about here," said he.</p>

<p>"I only wished to ask a question," said Holmes, with his
finger and thumb in his waistcoat pocket. "Should I be too early
to see your master, Mr. Silas Brown, if I were to call at five
o'clock to-morrow morning?"</p>

<p>"Bless you, sir, if any one is about he will be, for he is
always the first stirring. But here he is, sir, to answer your
questions for himself. No, sir, no; it is as much as my place is
worth to let him see me touch your money. Afterwards, if you
like."</p>

<p>As Sherlock Holmes replaced the half-crown which he had drawn
from his pocket, a fierce-looking elderly man strode out from the
gate with a hunting-crop swinging in his hand.</p>

<p>"What's this, Dawson!" he cried. "No gossiping! Go about your
business! And you, what the devil do you want here?"</p>

<p>"Ten minutes' talk with you, my good sir," said Holmes in the
sweetest of voices.</p>

<p>"I've no time to talk to every gadabout. We want no stranger
here. Be off, or you may find a dog at your heels."</p>

<p>Holmes leaned forward and whispered something in the trainer's
ear. He started violently and flushed to the temples.</p>

<p>"It's a lie!" he shouted, "an infernal lie!"</p>

<p>"Very good. Shall we argue about it here in public or talk it
over in your parlor?"</p>

<p>"Oh, come in if you wish to."</p>

<p>Holmes smiled. "I shall not keep you more than a few minutes,
Watson," said he. "Now, Mr. Brown, I am quite at your
disposal."</p>

<p>It was twenty minutes, and the reds had all faded into grays
before Holmes and the trainer reappeared. Never have I seen such
a change as had been brought about in Silas Brown in that short
time. His face was ashy pale, beads of perspiration shone upon
his brow, and his hands shook until the hunting-crop wagged like
a branch in the wind. His bullying, overbearing manner was all
gone too, and he cringed along at my companion's side like a dog
with its master.</p>

<p>"You instructions will be done. It shall all be done," said
he.</p>

<p>"There must be no mistake," said Holmes, looking round at him.
The other winced as he read the menace in his eyes.</p>

<p>"Oh no, there shall be no mistake. It shall be there. Should I
change it first or not?"</p>

<p>Holmes thought a little and then burst out laughing. "No,
don't," said he; "I shall write to you about it. No tricks, now,
or--"</p>

<p>"Oh, you can trust me, you can trust me!"</p>

<p>"Yes, I think I can. Well, you shall hear from me to-morrow."
He turned upon his heel, disregarding the trembling hand which
the other held out to him, and we set off for King's Pyland.</p>

<p>"A more perfect compound of the bully, coward, and sneak than
Master Silas Brown I have seldom met with," remarked Holmes as we
trudged along together.</p>

<p>"He has the horse, then?"</p>

<p>"He tried to bluster out of it, but I described to him so
exactly what his actions had been upon that morning that he is
convinced that I was watching him. Of course you observed the
peculiarly square toes in the impressions, and that his own boots
exactly corresponded to them. Again, of course no subordinate
would have dared to do such a thing. I described to him how, when
according to his custom he was the first down, he perceived a
strange horse wandering over the moor. How he went out to it, and
his astonishment at recognizing, from the white forehead which
has given the favorite its name, that chance had put in his power
the only horse which could beat the one upon which he had put his
money. Then I described how his first impulse had been to lead
him back to King's Pyland, and how the devil had shown him how he
could hide the horse until the race was over, and how he had led
it back and concealed it at Mapleton. When I told him every
detail he gave it up and thought only of saving his own
skin."</p>

<p>"But his stables had been searched?"</p>

<p>"Oh, and old horse-fakir like him has many a dodge."</p>

<p>"But are you not afraid to leave the horse in his power now,
since he has every interest in injuring it?"</p>

<p>"My dear fellow, he will guard it as the apple of his eye. He
knows that his only hope of mercy is to produce it safe."</p>

<p>"Colonel Ross did not impress me as a man who would be likely
to show much mercy in any case."</p>

<p>"The matter does not rest with Colonel Ross. I follow my own
methods, and tell as much or as little as I choose. That is the
advantage of being unofficial. I don't know whether you observed
it, Watson, but the Colonel's manner has been just a trifle
cavalier to me. I am inclined now to have a little amusement at
his expense. Say nothing to him about the horse."</p>

<p>"Certainly not without your permission."</p>

<p>"And of course this is all quite a minor point compared to the
question of who killed John Straker."</p>

<p>"And you will devote yourself to that?"</p>

<p>"On the contrary, we both go back to London by the night
train."</p>

<p>I was thunderstruck by my friend's words. We had only been a
few hours in Devonshire, and that he should give up an
investigation which he had begun so brilliantly was quite
incomprehensible to me. Not a word more could I draw from him
until we were back at the trainer's house. The Colonel and the
Inspector were awaiting us in the parlor.</p>

<p>"My friend and I return to town by the night-express," said
Holmes. "We have had a charming little breath of your beautiful
Dartmoor air."</p>

<p>The Inspector opened his eyes, and the Colonel's lip curled in
a sneer.</p>

<p>"So you despair of arresting the murderer of poor Straker,"
said he.</p>

<p>Holmes shrugged his shoulders. "There are certainly grave
difficulties in the way," said he. "I have every hope, however,
that your horse will start upon Tuesday, and I beg that you will
have your jockey in readiness. Might I ask for a photograph of
Mr. John Straker?"</p>

<p>The Inspector took one from an envelope and handed it to
him.</p>

<p>"My dear Gregory, you anticipate all my wants. If I might ask
you to wait here for an instant, I have a question which I should
like to put to the maid."</p>

<p>"I must say that I am rather disappointed in our London
consultant," said Colonel Ross, bluntly, as my friend left the
room. "I do not see that we are any further than when he
came."</p>

<p>"At least you have his assurance that your horse will run,"
said I.</p>

<p>"Yes, I have his assurance," said the Colonel, with a shrug of
his shoulders. "I should prefer to have the horse."</p>

<p>I was about to make some reply in defence of my friend when he
entered the room again.</p>

<p>"Now, gentlemen," said he, "I am quite ready for
Tavistock."</p>

<p>As we stepped into the carriage one of the stable-lads held
the door open for us. A sudden idea seemed to occur to Holmes,
for he leaned forward and touched the lad upon the sleeve.</p>

<p>"You have a few sheep in the paddock," he said. "Who attends
to them?"</p>

<p>"I do, sir."</p>

<p>"Have you noticed anything amiss with them of late?"</p>

<p>"Well, sir, not of much account; but three of them have gone
lame, sir."</p>

<p>I could see that Holmes was extremely pleased, for he chuckled
and rubbed his hands together.</p>

<p>"A long shot, Watson; a very long shot," said he, pinching my
arm. "Gregory, let me recommend to your attention this singular
epidemic among the sheep. Drive on, coachman!"</p>

<p>Colonel Ross still wore an expression which showed the poor
opinion which he had formed of my companion's ability, but I saw
by the Inspector's face that his attention had been keenly
aroused.</p>

<p>"You consider that to be important?" he asked.</p>

<p>"Exceedingly so."</p>

<p>"Is there any point to which you would wish to draw my
attention?"</p>

<p>"To the curious incident of the dog in the night-time."</p>

<p>"The dog did nothing in the night-time."</p>

<p>"That was the curious incident," remarked Sherlock Holmes.</p>

<p>Four days later Holmes and I were again in the train, bound
for Winchester to see the race for the Wessex Cup. Colonel Ross
met us by appointment outside the station, and we drove in his
drag to the course beyond the town. His face was grave, and his
manner was cold in the extreme. "I have seen nothing of my
horse," said he.</p>

<p>"I suppose that you would know him when you saw him?" asked
Holmes.</p>

<p>The Colonel was very angry. "I have been on the turf for
twenty years, and never was asked such a question as that
before," said he. "A child would know Silver Blaze, with his
white forehead and his mottled off-foreleg."</p>

<p>"How is the betting?"</p>

<p>"Well, that is the curious part of it. You could have got
fifteen to one yesterday, but the price has become shorter and
shorter, until you can hardly get three to one now."</p>

<p>"Hum!" said Holmes. "Somebody knows something, that is
clear."</p>

<p>As the drag drew up in the enclosure near the grand stand I
glanced at the card to see the entries.</p>

<p>Wessex Plate [it ran] 50 sovs each h ft with 1000 sovs added
for four and five year olds. Second, L300. Third, L200. New
course (one mile and five furlongs). Mr. Heath Newton's The
Negro. Red cap. Cinnamon jacket. Colonel Wardlaw's Pugilist. Pink
cap. Blue and black jacket. Lord Backwater's Desborough. Yellow
cap and sleeves. Colonel Ross's Silver Blaze. Black cap. Red
jacket. Duke of Balmoral's Iris. Yellow and black stripes. Lord
Singleford's Rasper. Purple cap. Black sleeves.</p>

<p>"We scratched our other one, and put all hopes on your word,"
said the Colonel. "Why, what is that? Silver Blaze favorite?"</p>

<p>"Five to four against Silver Blaze!" roared the ring. "Five to
four against Silver Blaze! Five to fifteen against Desborough!
Five to four on the field!"</p>

<p>"There are the numbers up," I cried. "They are all six
there."</p>

<p>"All six there? Then my horse is running," cried the Colonel
in great agitation. "But I don't see him. My colors have not
passed."</p>

<p>"Only five have passed. This must be he."</p>

<p>As I spoke a powerful bay horse swept out from the weighting
enclosure and cantered past us, bearing on it back the well-known
black and red of the Colonel.</p>

<p>"That's not my horse," cried the owner. "That beast has not a
white hair upon its body. What is this that you have done, Mr.
Holmes?"</p>

<p>"Well, well, let us see how he gets on," said my friend,
imperturbably. For a few minutes he gazed through my field-glass.
"Capital! An excellent start!" he cried suddenly. "There they
are, coming round the curve!"</p>

<p>From our drag we had a superb view as they came up the
straight. The six horses were so close together that a carpet
could have covered them, but half way up the yellow of the
Mapleton stable showed to the front. Before they reached us,
however, Desborough's bolt was shot, and the Colonel's horse,
coming away with a rush, passed the post a good six lengths
before its rival, the Duke of Balmoral's Iris making a bad
third.</p>

<p>"It's my race, anyhow," gasped the Colonel, passing his hand
over his eyes. "I confess that I can make neither head nor tail
of it. Don't you think that you have kept up your mystery long
enough, Mr. Holmes?"</p>

<p>"Certainly, Colonel, you shall know everything. Let us all go
round and have a look at the horse together. Here he is," he
continued, as we made our way into the weighing enclosure, where
only owners and their friends find admittance. "You have only to
wash his face and his leg in spirits of wine, and you will find
that he is the same old Silver Blaze as ever."</p>

<p>"You take my breath away!"</p>

<p>"I found him in the hands of a fakir, and took the liberty of
running him just as he was sent over."</p>

<p>"My dear sir, you have done wonders. The horse looks very fit
and well. It never went better in its life. I owe you a thousand
apologies for having doubted your ability. You have done me a
great service by recovering my horse. You would do me a greater
still if you could lay your hands on the murderer of John
Straker."</p>

<p>"I have done so," said Holmes quietly.</p>

<p>The Colonel and I stared at him in amazement. "You have got
him! Where is he, then?"</p>

<p>"He is here."</p>

<p>"Here! Where?"</p>

<p>"In my company at the present moment."</p>

<p>The Colonel flushed angrily. "I quite recognize that I am
under obligations to you, Mr. Holmes," said he, "but I must
regard what you have just said as either a very bad joke or an
insult."</p>

<p>Sherlock Holmes laughed. "I assure you that I have not
associated you with the crime, Colonel," said he. "The real
murderer is standing immediately behind you." He stepped past and
laid his hand upon the glossy neck of the thoroughbred.</p>

<p>"The horse!" cried both the Colonel and myself.</p>

<p>"Yes, the horse. And it may lessen his guilt if I say that it
was done in self-defence, and that John Straker was a man who was
entirely unworthy of your confidence. But there goes the bell,
and as I stand to win a little on this next race, I shall defer a
lengthy explanation until a more fitting time."</p>

<p>We had the corner of a Pullman car to ourselves that evening
as we whirled back to London, and I fancy that the journey was a
short one to Colonel Ross as well as to myself, as we listened to
our companion's narrative of the events which had occurred at the
Dartmoor training-stables upon the Monday night, and the means by
which he had unravelled them.</p>

<p>"I confess," said he, "that any theories which I had formed
from the newspaper reports were entirely erroneous. And yet there
were indications there, had they not been overlaid by other
details which concealed their true import. I went to Devonshire
with the conviction that Fitzroy Simpson was the true culprit,
although, of course, I saw that the evidence against him was by
no means complete. It was while I was in the carriage, just as we
reached the trainer's house, that the immense significance of the
curried mutton occurred to me. You may remember that I was
distrait, and remained sitting after you had all alighted. I was
marvelling in my own mind how I could possibly have overlooked so
obvious a clue."</p>

<p>"I confess," said the Colonel, "that even now I cannot see how
it helps us."</p>

<p>"It was the first link in my chain of reasoning. Powdered
opium is by no means tasteless. The flavor is not disagreeable,
but it is perceptible. Were it mixed with any ordinary dish the
eater would undoubtedly detect it, and would probably eat no
more. A curry was exactly the medium which would disguise this
taste. By no possible supposition could this stranger, Fitzroy
Simpson, have caused curry to be served in the trainer's family
that night, and it is surely too monstrous a coincidence to
suppose that he happened to come along with powdered opium upon
the very night when a dish happened to be served which would
disguise the flavor. That is unthinkable. Therefore Simpson
becomes eliminated from the case, and our attention centers upon
Straker and his wife, the only two people who could have chosen
curried mutton for supper that night. The opium was added after
the dish was set aside for the stable-boy, for the others had the
same for supper with no ill effects. Which of them, then, had
access to that dish without the maid seeing them?</p>

<p>"Before deciding that question I had grasped the significance
of the silence of the dog, for one true inference invariably
suggests others. The Simpson incident had shown me that a dog was
kept in the stables, and yet, though some one had been in and had
fetched out a horse, he had not barked enough to arouse the two
lads in the loft. Obviously the midnight visitor was some one
whom the dog knew well.</p>

<p>"I was already convinced, or almost convinced, that John
Straker went down to the stables in the dead of the night and
took out Silver Blaze. For what purpose? For a dishonest one,
obviously, or why should he drug his own stable-boy? And yet I
was at a loss to know why. There have been cases before now where
trainers have made sure of great sums of money by laying against
their own horses, through agents, and then preventing them from
winning by fraud. Sometimes it is a pulling jockey. Sometimes it
is some surer and subtler means. What was it here? I hoped that
the contents of his pockets might help me to form a
conclusion.</p>

<p>"And they did so. You cannot have forgotten the singular knife
which was found in the dead man's hand, a knife which certainly
no sane man would choose for a weapon. It was, as Dr. Watson told
us, a form of knife which is used for the most delicate
operations known in surgery. And it was to be used for a delicate
operation that night. You must know, with your wide experience of
turf matters, Colonel Ross, that it is possible to make a slight
nick upon the tendons of a horse's ham, and to do it
subcutaneously, so as to leave absolutely no trace. A horse so
treated would develop a slight lameness, which would be put down
to a strain in exercise or a touch of rheumatism, but never to
foul play."</p>

<p>"Villain! Scoundrel!" cried the Colonel.</p>

<p>"We have here the explanation of why John Straker wished to
take the horse out on to the moor. So spirited a creature would
have certainly roused the soundest of sleepers when it felt the
prick of the knife. It was absolutely necessary to do it in the
open air."</p>

<p>"I have been blind!" cried the Colonel. "Of course that was
why he needed the candle, and struck the match."</p>

<p>"Undoubtedly. But in examining his belongings I was fortunate
enough to discover not only the method of the crime, but even its
motives. As a man of the world, Colonel, you know that men do not
carry other people's bills about in their pockets. We have most
of us quite enough to do to settle our own. I at once concluded
that Straker was leading a double life, and keeping a second
establishment. The nature of the bill showed that there was a
lady in the case, and one who had expensive tastes. Liberal as
you are with your servants, one can hardly expect that they can
buy twenty-guinea walking dresses for their ladies. I questioned
Mrs. Straker as to the dress without her knowing it, and having
satisfied myself that it had never reached her, I made a note of
the milliner's address, and felt that by calling there with
Straker's photograph I could easily dispose of the mythical
Derbyshire.</p>

<p>"From that time on all was plain. Straker had led out the
horse to a hollow where his light would be invisible. Simpson in
his flight had dropped his cravat, and Straker had picked it
up--with some idea, perhaps, that he might use it in securing the
horse's leg. Once in the hollow, he had got behind the horse and
had struck a light; but the creature frightened at the sudden
glare, and with the strange instinct of animals feeling that some
mischief was intended, had lashed out, and the steel shoe had
struck Straker full on the forehead. He had already, in spite of
the rain, taken off his overcoat in order to do his delicate
task, and so, as he fell, his knife gashed his thigh. Do I make
it clear?"</p>

<p>"Wonderful!" cried the Colonel. "Wonderful! You might have
been there!"</p>

<p>"My final shot was, I confess a very long one. It struck me
that so astute a man as Straker would not undertake this delicate
tendon-nicking without a little practice. What could he practice
on? My eyes fell upon the sheep, and I asked a question which,
rather to my surprise, showed that my surmise was correct.</p>

<p>"When I returned to London I called upon the milliner, who had
recognized Straker as an excellent customer of the name of
Derbyshire, who had a very dashing wife, with a strong partiality
for expensive dresses. I have no doubt that this woman had
plunged him over head and ears in debt, and so led him into this
miserable plot."</p>

<p>"You have explained all but one thing," cried the Colonel.
"Where was the horse?"</p>

<p>"Ah, it bolted, and was cared for by one of your neighbors. We
must have an amnesty in that direction, I think. This is Clapham
Junction, if I am not mistaken, and we shall be in Victoria in
less than ten minutes. If you care to smoke a cigar in our rooms,
Colonel, I shall be happy to give you any other details which
might interest you."</p>

<hr>
<h3 align="Center">Adventure II</h3>

<h3 align="Center">The Yellow Face</h3>

<br>
<p>[In publishing these short sketches based upon the numerous
cases in which my companion's singular gifts have made us the
listeners to, and eventually the actors in, some strange drama,
it is only natural that I should dwell rather upon his successes
than upon his failures. And this not so much for the sake of his
reputations--for, indeed, it was when he was at his wits' end
that his energy and his versatility were most admirable--but
because where he failed it happened too often that no one else
succeeded, and that the tale was left forever without a
conclusion. Now and again, however, it chanced that even when he
erred, the truth was still discovered. I have noted of some
half-dozen cases of the kind the Adventure of the Musgrave Ritual
and that which I am about to recount are the two which present
the strongest features of interest.]</p>

<p>Sherlock Holmes was a man who seldom took exercise for
exercise's sake. Few men were capable of greater muscular effort,
and he was undoubtedly one of the finest boxers of his weight
that I have ever seen; but he looked upon aimless bodily exertion
as a waste of energy, and he seldom bestirred himself save when
there was some professional object to be served. Then he was
absolutely untiring and indefatigable. That he should have kept
himself in training under such circumstances is remarkable, but
his diet was usually of the sparest, and his habits were simple
to the verge of austerity. Save for the occasional use of
cocaine, he had no vices, and he only turned to the drug as a
protest against the monotony of existence when cases were scanty
and the papers uninteresting.</p>

<p>One day in early spring he had so fare relaxed as to go for a
walk with me in the Park, where the first faint shoots of green
were breaking out upon the elms, and the sticky spear-heads of
the chestnuts were just beginning to burst into their five-fold
leaves. For two hours we rambled about together, in silence for
the most part, as befits two men who know each other intimately.
It was nearly five before we were back in Baker Street once
more.</p>

<p>"Beg pardon, sir," said our page-boy, as he opened the door.
"There's been a gentleman here asking for you, sir."</p>

<p>Holmes glanced reproachfully at me. "So much for afternoon
walks!" said he. "Has this gentleman gone, then?"</p>

<p>"Yes, sir."</p>

<p>"Didn't you ask him in?"</p>

<p>"Yes, sir; he came in."</p>

<p>"How long did he wait?"</p>

<p>"Half an hour, sir. He was a very restless gentleman, sir,
a-walkin' and a-stampin' all the time he was here. I was waitin'
outside the door, sir, and I could hear him. At last he out into
the passage, and he cries, 'Is that man never goin' to come?'
Those were his very words, sir. 'You'll only need to wait a
little longer,' says I. 'Then I'll wait in the open air, for I
feel half choked,' says he. 'I'll be back before long.' And with
that he ups and he outs, and all I could say wouldn't hold him
back."</p>

<p>"Well, well, you did you best," said Holmes, as we walked into
our room. "It's very annoying, though, Watson. I was badly in
need of a case, and this looks, from the man's impatience, as if
it were of importance. Hullo! That's not your pipe on the table.
He must have left his behind him. A nice old brier with a good
long stem of what the tobacconists call amber. I wonder how many
real amber mouthpieces there are in London? Some people think
that a fly in it is a sign. Well, he must have been disturbed in
his mind to leave a pipe behind him which he evidently values
highly."</p>

<p>"How do you know that he values it highly?" I asked.</p>

<p>"Well, I should put the original cost of the pipe at seven and
sixpence. Now it has, you see, been twice mended, once in the
wooden stem and once in the amber. Each of these mends, done, as
you observe, with silver bands, must have cost more than the pipe
did originally. The man must value the pipe highly when he
prefers to patch it up rather than buy a new one with the same
money."</p>

<p>"Anything else?" I asked, for Holmes was turning the pipe
about in his hand, and staring at it in his peculiar pensive
way.</p>

<p>He held it up and tapped on it with his long, thin
fore-finger, as a professor might who was lecturing on a
bone.</p>

<p>"Pipes are occasionally of extraordinary interest," said he.
"Nothing has more individuality, save perhaps watches and
bootlaces. The indications here, however, are neither very marked
nor very important. The owner is obviously a muscular man,
left-handed, with an excellent set of teeth, careless in his
habits, and with no need to practise economy."</p>

<p>My friend threw out the information in a very offhand way, but
I saw that he cocked his eye at me to see if I had followed his
reasoning.</p>

<p>"You think a man must be well-to-do if he smokes a
seven-shilling pipe," said I.</p>

<p>"This is Grosvenor mixture at eightpence an ounce," Holmes
answered, knocking a little out on his palm. "As he might get an
excellent smoke for half the price, he has no need to practise
economy."</p>

<p>"And the other points?"</p>

<p>"He has been in the habit of lighting his pipe at lamps and
gas-jets. You can see that it is quite charred all down one side.
Of course a match could not have done that. Why should a man hold
a match to the side of his pipe? But you cannot light it at a
lamp without getting the bowl charred. And it is all on the right
side of the pipe. From that I gather that he is a left-handed
man. You hold your own pipe to the lamp, and see how naturally
you, being right-handed, hold the left side to the flame. You
might do it once the other way, but not as a constancy. This has
always been held so. Then he has bitten through his amber. It
takes a muscular, energetic fellow, and one with a good set of
teeth, to do that. But if I am not mistaken I hear him upon the
stair, so we shall have something more interesting than his pipe
to study."</p>

<p>An instant later our door opened, and a tall young man entered
the room. He was well but quietly dressed in a dark-gray suit,
and carried a brown wide-awake in his hand. I should have put him
at about thirty, though he was really some years older.</p>

<p>"I beg your pardon," said he, with some embarrassment; "I
suppose I should have knocked. Yes, of course I should have
knocked. The fact is that I am a little upset, and you must put
it all down to that." He passed his hand over his forehead like a
man who is half dazed, and then fell rather than sat down upon a
chair.</p>

<p>"I can see that you have not slept for a night or two," said
Holmes, in his easy, genial way. "That tries a man's nerves more
than work, and more even than pleasure. May I ask how I can help
you?"</p>

<p>"I wanted your advice, sir. I don't know what to do and my
whole life seems to have gone to pieces."</p>

<p>"You wish to employ me as a consulting detective?"</p>

<p>"Not that only. I want your opinion as a judicious man--as a
man of the world. I want to know what I ought to do next. I hope
to God you'll be able to tell me."</p>

<p>He spoke in little, sharp, jerky outbursts, and it seemed to
me that to speak at all was very painful to him, and that his
will all through was overriding his inclinations.</p>

<p>"It's a very delicate thing," said he. "One does not like to
speak of one's domestic affairs to strangers. It seems dreadful
to discuss the conduct of one's wife with two men whom I have
never seen before. It's horrible to have to do it. But I've got
to the end of my tether, and I must have advice."</p>

<p>"My dear Mr. Grant Munro--" began Holmes.</p>

<p>Our visitor sprang from his char. "What!" he cried, "you know
my mane?"</p>

<p>"If you wish to preserve your incognito,' said Holmes,
smiling, "I would suggest that you cease to write your name upon
the lining of your hat, or else that you turn the crown towards
the person whom you are addressing. I was about to say that my
friend and I have listened to a good many strange secrets in this
room, and that we have had the good fortune to bring peace to
many troubled souls. I trust that we may do as much for you.
Might I beg you, as time may prove to be of importance, to
furnish me with the facts of your case without further
delay?"</p>

<p>Our visitor again passed his hand over his forehead, as if he
found it bitterly hard. From every gesture and expression I could
see that he was a reserved, self-contained man, with a dash of
pride in his nature, more likely to hide his wounds than to
expose them. Then suddenly, with a fierce gesture of his closed
hand, like one who throws reserve to the winds, he began.</p>

<p>"The facts are these, Mr. Holmes," said he. "I am a married
man, and have been so for three years. During that time my wife
and I have loved each other as fondly and lived as happily as any
two that ever were joined. We have not had a difference, not one,
in thought or word or deed. And now, since last Monday, there has
suddenly sprung up a barrier between us, and I find that there is
something in her life and in her thought of which I know as
little as if she were the woman who brushes by me in the street.
We are estranged, and I want to know why.</p>

<p>"Now there is one thing that I want to impress upon you before
I go any further, Mr. Holmes. Effie loves me. Don't let there be
any mistake about that. She loves me with her whole heart and
soul, and never more than now. I know it. I feel it. I don't want
to argue about that. A man can tell easily enough when a woman
loves him. But there's this secret between us, and we can never
be the same until it is cleared."</p>

<p>"Kindly let me have the facts, Mr. Munro," said Holmes, with
some impatience.</p>

<p>"I'll tell you what I know about Effie's history. She was a
widow when I met her first, though quite young--only twenty-five.
Her name then was Mrs. Hebron. She went out to America when she
was young, and lived in the town of Atlanta, where she married
this Hebron, who was a lawyer with a good practice. They had one
child, but the yellow fever broke out badly in the place, and
both husband and child died of it. I have seen his death
certificate. This sickened her of America, and she came back to
live with a maiden aunt at Pinner, in Middlesex. I may mention
that her husband had left her comfortably off, and that she had a
capital of about four thousand five hundred pounds, which had
been so well invested by him that it returned an average of seven
per cent. She had only been six months at Pinner when I met her;
we fell in love with each other, and we married a few weeks
afterwards.</p>

<p>"I am a hop merchant myself, and as I have an income of seven
or eight hundred, we found ourselves comfortably off, and took a
nice eighty-pound-a-year villa at Norbury. Our little place was
very countrified, considering that it is so close to town. We had
an inn and two houses a little above us, and a single cottage at
the other side of the field which faces us, and except those
there were no houses until you got half way to the station. My
business took me into town at certain seasons, but in summer I
had less to do, and then in our country home my wife and I were
just as happy as could be wished. I tell you that there never was
a shadow between us until this accursed affair began.</p>

<p>"There's one thing I ought to tell you before I go further.
When we married, my wife made over all her property to me--rather
against my will, for I saw how awkward it would be if my business
affairs went wrong. However, she would have it so, and it was
done. Well, about six weeks ago she came to me.</p>

<p>"'Jack,' said she, 'when you took my money you said that if
ever I wanted any I was to ask you for it.'</p>

<p>"'Certainly,' said I. 'It's all your own.'</p>

<p>"'Well,' said she, 'I want a hundred pounds.'</p>

<p>"I was a bit staggered at this, for I had imagined it was
simply a new dress or something of the kind that she was
after.</p>

<p>"'What on earth for?' I asked.</p>

<p>"'Oh,' said she, in her playful way, 'you said that you were
only my banker, and bankers never ask questions, you know.'</p>

<p>"'If you really mean it, of course you shall have the money,'
said I.</p>

<p>"'Oh, yes, I really mean it.'</p>

<p>"'And you won't tell me what you want it for?'</p>

<p>"'Some day, perhaps, but not just at present, Jack.'</p>

<p>"So I had to be content with that, thought it was the first
time that there had ever been any secret between us. I gave her a
check, and I never thought any more of the matter. It may have
nothing to do with what came afterwards, but I thought it only
right to mention it.</p>

<p>"Well, I told you just now that there is a cottage not far
from our house. There is just a field between us, but to reach it
you have to go along the road and then turn down a lane. Just
beyond it is a nice little grove of Scotch firs, and I used to be
very fond of strolling down there, for trees are always a
neighborly kind of things. The cottage had been standing empty
this eight months, and it was a pity, for it was a pretty two
storied place, with an old-fashioned porch and honeysuckle about
it. I have stood many a time and thought what a neat little
homestead it would make.</p>

<p>"Well, last Monday evening I was taking a stroll down that
way, when I met an empty van coming up the lane, and saw a pile
of carpets and things lying about on the grass-plot beside the
porch. It was clear that the cottage had at last been let. I
walked past it, and wondered what sort of folk they were who had
come to live so near us. And as I looked I suddenly became aware
that a face was watching me out of one of the upper windows.</p>

<p>"I don't know what there was about that face, Mr. Holmes, but
it seemed to send a chill right down my back. I was some little
way off, so that I could not make out the features, but there was
something unnatural and inhuman about the face. That was the
impression that I had, and I moved quickly forwards to get a
nearer view of the person who was watching me. But as I did so
the face suddenly disappeared, so suddenly that it seemed to have
been plucked away into the darkness of the room. I stood for five
minutes thinking the business over, and trying to analyze my
impressions. I could not tell if the face were that of a man or a
woman. It had been too far from me for that. But its color was
what had impressed me most. It was of a livid chalky white, and
with something set and rigid about it which was shockingly
unnatural. So disturbed was I that I determined to see a little
more of the new inmates of the cottage. I approached and knocked
at the door, which was instantly opened by a tall, gaunt woman
with a harsh, forbidding face.</p>

<p>"'What may you be wantin'?' she asked, in a Northern
accent.</p>

<p>"'I am your neighbor over yonder,' said I, nodding towards my
house. 'I see that you have only just moved in, so I thought that
if I could be of any help to you in any--'</p>

<p>"'Ay, we'll just ask ye when we want ye,' said she, and shut
the door in my face. Annoyed at the churlish rebuff, I turned my
back and walked home. All evening, though I tried to think of
other things, my mind would still turn to the apparition at the
window and the rudeness of the woman. I determined to say nothing
about the former to my wife, for she is a nervous, highly strung
woman, and I had no wish that she would share the unpleasant
impression which had been produced upon myself. I remarked to
her, however, before I fell asleep, that the cottage was now
occupied, to which she returned no reply.</p>

<p>"I am usually an extremely sound sleeper. It has been a
standing jest in the family that nothing could ever wake me
during the night. And yet somehow on that particular night,
whether it may have been the slight excitement produced by my
little</p>

<p>adventure or not I know not, but I slept much more lightly
than usual. Half in my dreams I was dimly conscious that
something was going on in the room, and gradually became aware
that my wife had dressed herself and was slipping on her mantle
and her bonnet. My lips were parted to murmur out some sleepy
words of surprise or remonstrance at this untimely preparation,
when suddenly my half-opened eyes fell upon her face, illuminated
by the candle-light, and astonishment held me dumb. She wore an
expression such as I had never seen before--such as I should have
thought her incapable of assuming. She was deadly pale and
breathing fast, glancing furtively towards the bed as she
fastened her mantle, to see if she had disturbed me. Then,
thinking that I was still asleep, she slipped noiselessly from
the room, and an instant later I heard a sharp creaking which
could only come from the hinges of the front door. I sat up in
bed and rapped my knuckles against the rail to make certain that
I was truly awake. Then I took my watch from under the pillow. It
was three in the morning. What on this earth could my wife be
doing out on the country road at three in the morning?</p>

<p>"I had sat for about twenty minutes turning the thing over in
my mind and trying to find some possible explanation. The more I
thought, the ore extraordinary and inexplicable did it appear. I
was still puzzling over it when I heard the door gently close
again, and her footsteps coming up the stairs.</p>

<p>"'Where in the world have you been, Effie?' I asked as she
entered.</p>

<p>"She gave a violent start and a kind of gasping cry when I
spoke, and that cry and start troubled me more than all the rest,
for there was something indescribably guilty about them. My wife
had always been a woman of a frank, open nature, and it gave me a
chill to see her slinking into her own room, and crying out and
wincing when her own husband spoke to her.</p>

<p>"'You awake, Jack!' she cried, with a nervous laugh. 'Why, I
thought that nothing could awake you.'</p>

<p>"'Where have you been?' I asked, more sternly.</p>

<p>"'I don't wonder that you are surprised,' said she, and I
could see that her fingers were trembling as she undid the
fastenings of her mantle. 'Why, I never remember having done such
a thing in my life before. The fact is that I felt as though I
were choking, and had a perfect longing for a breath of fresh
air. I really think that I should have fainted if I had not gone
out. I stood at the door for a few minutes, and now I am quite
myself again.'</p>

<p>"All the time that she was telling me this story she never
once looked in my direction, and her voice was quite unlike her
usual tones. It was evident to me that she was saying what was
false. I said nothing in reply, but turned my face to the wall,
sick at heart, with my mind filled with a thousand venomous
doubts and suspicions. What was it that my wife was concealing
from me? Where had she been during that strange expedition? I
felt that I should have no peace until I knew, and yet I shrank
from asking her again after once she had told me what was false.
All the rest of the night I tossed and tumbled, framing theory
after theory, each more unlikely than the last.</p>

<p>"I should have gone to the City that day, but I was too
disturbed in my mind to be able to pay attention to business
matters. My wife seemed to be as upset as myself, and I could see
from the little questioning glances which she kept shooting at me
that she understood that I disbelieved her statement, and that
she was at her wits' end what to do. We hardly exchanged a word
during breakfast, and immediately afterwards I went out for a
walk, that I might think the matter out in the fresh morning
air.</p>

<p>"I went as far as the Crystal Palace, spent an hour in the
grounds, and was back in Norbury by one o'clock. It happened that
my way took me past the cottage, and I stopped for an instant to
look at the windows, and to see if I could catch a glimpse of the
strange face which had looked out at me on the day before. As I
stood there, imagine my surprise, Mr. Holmes, when the door
suddenly opened and my wife walked out.</p>

<p>"I was struck dumb with astonishment at the sight of her; but
my emotions were nothing to those which showed themselves upon
her face when our eyes met. She seemed for an instant to wish to
shrink back inside the house again; and then, seeing how useless
all concealment must be, she came forward, with a very white face
and frightened eyes which belied the smile upon her lips.</p>

<p>"'Ah, Jack,' she said, 'I have just been in to see if I can be
of any assistance to our new neighbors. Why do you look at me
like that, Jack? You are not angry with me?'</p>

<p>"'So,' said I, 'this is where you went during the night.'</p>

<p>"'What do you mean?" she cried.</p>

<p>"'You came here. I am sure of it. Who are these people, that
you should visit them at such an hour?'</p>

<p>"'I have not been here before.'</p>

<p>"'How can you tell me what you know is false?' I cried. 'Your
very voice changes as you speak. When have I ever had a secret
from you? I shall enter that cottage, and I shall probe the
matter to the bottom.'</p>

<p>"'No, no, Jack, for God's sake!' she gasped, in uncontrollable
emotion. Then, as I approached the door, she seized my sleeve and
pulled me back with convulsive strength.</p>

<p>"'I implore you not to do this, Jack,' she cried. 'I swear
that I will tell you everything some day, but nothing but misery
can come of it if you enter that cottage.' Then, as I tried to
shake her off, she clung to me in a frenzy of entreaty.</p>

<p>"'Trust me, Jack!' she cried. 'Trust me only this once. You
will never have cause to regret it. You know that I would not
have a secret from you if it were not for your own sake. Our
whole lives are at stake in this. If you come home with me, all
will be well. If you force your way into that cottage, all is
over between us.'</p>

<p>"There was such earnestness, such despair, in her manner that
her words arrested me, and I stood irresolute before the
door.</p>

<p>"'I will trust you on one condition, and on one condition
only,' said I at last. 'It is that this mystery comes to an end
from now. You are at liberty to preserve your secret, but you
must promise me that there shall be no more nightly visits, no
more doings which are kept from my knowledge. I am willing to
forget those which are passed if you will promise that there
shall be no more in the future.'</p>

<p>"'I was sure that you would trust me,' she cried, with a great
sigh of relief. 'It shall be just as you wish. Come away--oh,
come away up to the house.'</p>

<p>"Still pulling at my sleeve, she led me away from the cottage.
As we went I glanced back, and there was that yellow livid face
watching us out of the upper window. What link could there be
between that creature and my wife? Or how could the coarse, rough
woman whom I had seen the day before be connected with her? It
was a strange puzzle, and yet I knew that my mind could never
know ease again until I had solved it.</p>

<p>"For two days after this I stayed at home, and my wife
appeared to abide loyally by our engagement, for, as far as I
know, she never stirred out of the house. On the third day,
however, I had ample evidence that her solemn promise was not
enough to hold her back from this secret influence which drew her
away from her husband and her duty.</p>

<p>"I had gone into town on that day, but I returned by the 2.40
instead of the 3.36, which is my usual train. As I entered the
house the maid ran into the hall with a startled face.</p>

<p>"'Where is your mistress?' I asked.</p>

<p>"'I think that she has gone out for a walk,' she answered.</p>

<p>"My mind was instantly filled with suspicion. I rushed
upstairs to make sure that she was not in the house. As I did so
I happened to glance out of one of the upper windows, and saw the
maid with whom I had just been speaking running across the field
in the direction of the cottage. Then of course I saw exactly
what it all meant. My wife had gone over there, and had asked the
servant to call her if I should return. Tingling with anger, I
rushed down and hurried across, determined to end the matter once
and forever. I saw my wife and the maid hurrying back along the
lane, but I did not stop to speak with them. In the cottage lay
the secret which was casting a shadow over my life. I vowed that,
come what might, it should be a secret no longer. I did not even
knock when I reached it, but turned the handle and rushed into
the passage.</p>

<p>"It was all still and quiet upon the ground floor. In the
kitchen a kettle was singing on the fire, and a large black cat
lay coiled up in the basket; but there was no sign of the woman
whom I had seen before. I ran into the other room, but it was
equally deserted. Then I rushed up the stairs, only to find two
other rooms empty and deserted at the top. There was no one at
all in the whole house. The furniture and pictures were of the
most common and vulgar description, save in the one chamber at
the window of which I had seen the strange face. That was
comfortable and elegant, and all my suspicions rose into a fierce
bitter flame when I saw that on the mantelpiece stood a copy of a
fell-length photograph of my wife, which had been taken at my
request only three months ago.</p>

<p>"I stayed long enough to make certain that the house was
absolutely empty. Then I left it, feeling a weight at my heart
such as I had never had before. My wife came out into the hall as
I entered my house; but I was too hurt and angry to speak with
her, and pushing past her, I made my way into my study. She
followed me, however, before I could close the door.</p>

<p>"'I am sorry that I broke my promise, Jack,' said she; 'but if
you knew all the circumstances I am sure that you would forgive
me.'</p>

<p>"'Tell me everything, then,' said I.</p>

<p>"'I cannot, Jack, I cannot,' she cried.</p>

<p>"'Until you tell me who it is that has been living in that
cottage, and who it is to whom you have given that photograph,
there can never be any confidence between us,' said I, and
breaking away from her, I left the house. That was yesterday, Mr.
Holmes, and I have not seen her since, nor do I know anything
more about this strange business. It is the first shadow that has
come between us, and it has so shaken me that I do not know what
I should do for the best. Suddenly this morning it occurred to me
that you were the man to advise me, so I have hurried to you now,
and I place myself unreservedly in your hands. If there is any
point which I have not made clear, pray question me about it.
But, above all, tell me quickly what I am to do, for this misery
is more than I can bear."</p>

<p>Holmes and I had listened with the utmost interest to this
extraordinary statement, which had been delivered in the jerky,
broken fashion of a man who is under the influence of extreme
emotions. My companion sat silent for some time, with his chin
upon his hand, lost in thought.</p>

<p>"Tell me," said he at last, "could you swear that this was a
man's face which you saw at the window?"</p>

<p>"Each time that I saw it I was some distance away from it, so
that it is impossible for me to say."</p>

<p>"You appear, however, to have been disagreeably impressed by
it."</p>

<p>"It seemed to be of an unnatural color, and to have a strange
rigidity about the features. When I approached, it vanished with
a jerk."</p>

<p>"How long is it since your wife asked you for a hundred
pounds?"</p>

<p>"Nearly two months."</p>

<p>"Have you ever seen a photograph of her first husband?"</p>

<p>"No; there was a great fire at Atlanta very shortly after his
death, and all her papers were destroyed."</p>

<p>"And yet she had a certificate of death. You say that you saw
it."</p>

<p>"Yes; she got a duplicate after the fire."</p>

<p>"Did you ever meet any one who knew her in America?"</p>

<p>"No."</p>

<p>"Did she ever talk of revisiting the place?"</p>

<p>"No."</p>

<p>"Or get letters from it?"</p>

<p>"No."</p>

<p>"Thank you. I should like to think over the matter a little
now. If the cottage is now permanently deserted we may have some
difficulty. If, on the other hand, as I fancy is more likely, the
inmates were warned of you coming, and left before you entered
yesterday, then they may be back now, and we should clear it all
up easily. Let me advise you, then, to return to Norbury, and to
examine the windows of the cottage again. If you have reason to
believe that is inhabited, do not force your way in, but send a
wire to my friend and me. We shall be with you within an hour of
receiving it, and we shall then very soon get to the bottom of
the business."</p>

<p>"And if it is still empty?"</p>

<p>"In that case I shall come out to-morrow and talk it over with
you. Good-by; and, above all, do not fret until you know that you
really have a cause for it."</p>

<p>"I am afraid that this is a bad business, Watson," said my
companion, as he returned after accompanying Mr. Grant Munro to
the door. "What do you make of it?"</p>

<p>"It had an ugly sound," I answered.</p>

<p>"Yes. There's blackmail in it, or I am much mistaken."</p>

<p>"And who is the blackmailer?"</p>

<p>"Well, it must be the creature who lives in the only
comfortable room in the place, and has her photograph above his
fireplace. Upon my word, Watson, there is something very
attractive about that livid face at the window, and I would not
have missed the case for worlds."</p>

<p>"You have a theory?"</p>

<p>"Yes, a provisional one. But I shall be surprised if it does
not turn out to be correct. This woman's first husband is in that
cottage."</p>

<p>"Why do you think so?"</p>

<p>"How else can we explain her frenzied anxiety that her second
one should not enter it? The facts, as I read them, are something
like this: This woman was married in America. Her husband
developed some hateful qualities; or shall we say that he
contracted some loathsome disease, and became a leper or an
imbecile? She flies from him at last, returns to England, changes
her name, and starts her life, as she thinks, afresh. She has
been married three years, and believes that her position is quite
secure, having shown her husband the death certificate of some
man whose name she has assumed, when suddenly her whereabouts is
discovered by her first husband; or, we may suppose, by some
unscrupulous woman who has attached herself to the invalid. They
write to the wife, and threaten to come and expose her. She asks
for a hundred pounds, and endeavors to buy them off. They come in
spite of it, and when the husband mentions casually to the wife
that there a new-comers in the cottage, she knows in some way
that they are her pursuers. She waits until her husband is
asleep, and then she rushes down to endeavor to persuade them to
leave her in peace. Having no success, she goes again next
morning, and her husband meets her, as he has told us, as she
comes out. She promises him then not to go there again, but two
days afterwards the hope of getting rid of those dreadful
neighbors was too strong for her, and she made another attempt,
taking down with her the photograph which had probably been
demanded from her. In the midst of this interview the maid rushed
in to say that the master had come home, on which the wife,
knowing that he would come straight down to the cottage, hurried
the inmates out at the back door, into the grove of fir-trees,
probably, which was mentioned as standing near. In this way he
found the place deserted. I shall be very much surprised,
however, if it still so when he reconnoitres it this evening.
What do you think of my theory?"</p>

<p>"It is all surmise."</p>

<p>"But at least it covers all the facts. When new facts come to
our knowledge which cannot be covered by it, it will be time
enough to reconsider it. We can do nothing more until we have a
message from our friend at Norbury."</p>

<p>But we had not a very long time to wait for that. It came just
as we had finished our tea. "The cottage is still tenanted," it
said. "Have seen the face again at the window. Will meet the
seven o'clock train, and will take no steps until you
arrive."</p>

<p>He was waiting on the platform when we stepped out, and we
could see in the light of the station lamps that he was very
pale, and quivering with agitation.</p>

<p>"They are still there, Mr. Holmes," said he, laying his hand
hard upon my friend's sleeve. "I saw lights in the cottage as I
came down. We shall settle it now once and for all."</p>

<p>"What is your plan, then?" asked Holmes, as he walked down the
dark tree-lined road.</p>

<p>"I am going to force my way in and see for myself who is in
the house. I wish you both to be there as witnesses."</p>

<p>"You are quite determined to do this, in spite of your wife's
warning that it is better that you should not solve the
mystery?"</p>

<p>"Yes, I am determined."</p>

<p>"Well, I think that you are in the right. Any truth is better
than indefinite doubt. We had better go up at once. Of course,
legally, we are putting ourselves hopelessly in the wrong; but I
think that it is worth it."</p>

<p>It was a very dark night, and a thin rain began to fall as we
turned from the high road into a narrow lane, deeply rutted, with
hedges on either side. Mr. Grant Munro pushed impatiently
forward, however, and we stumbled after him as best we could.</p>

<p>"There are the lights of my house," he murmured, pointing to a
glimmer among the trees. "And here is the cottage which I am
going to enter."</p>

<p>We turned a corner in the lane as he spoke, and there was the
building close beside us. A yellow bar falling across the black
foreground showed that the door was not quite closed, and one
window in the upper story was brightly illuminated. As we looked,
we saw a dark blur moving across the blind.</p>

<p>"There is that creature!" cried Grant Munro. "You can see for
yourselves that some one is there. Now follow me, and we shall
soon know all."</p>

<p>We approached the door; but suddenly a woman appeared out of
the shadow and stood in the golden track of the lamp-light. I
could not see her face in the he darkness, but her arms were
thrown out in an attitude of entreaty.</p>

<p>"For God's sake, don't Jack!" she cried. "I had a presentiment
that you would come this evening. Think better of it, dear! Trust
me again, and you will never have cause to regret it."</p>

<p>"I have trusted you tool long, Effie," he cried, sternly.
"Leave go of me! I must pass you. My friends and I are going to
settle this matter once and forever!" He pushed her to one side,
and we followed closely after him. As he threw the door open an
old woman ran out in front of him and tried to bar his passage,
but he thrust her back, and an instant afterwards we were all
upon the stairs. Grant Munro rushed into the lighted room at the
top, and we entered at his heels.</p>

<p>It was a cosey, well-furnished apartment, with two candles
burning upon the table and two upon the mantelpiece. In the
corner, stooping over a desk, there sat what appeared to be a
little girl. Her face was turned away as we entered, but we could
see that she was dressed in a red frock, and that she had long
white gloves on. As she whisked round to us, I gave a cry of
surprise and horror. The face which she turned towards us was of
the strangest livid tint, and the features were absolutely devoid
of any expression. An instant later the mystery was explained.
Holmes, with a laugh, passed his hand behind the child's ear, a
mask peeled off from her countenance, an there was a little coal
black negress, with all her white teeth flashing in amusement at
our amazed faces. I burst out laughing, out of sympathy with her
merriment; but Grant Munro stood staring, with his hand clutching
his throat.</p>

<p>"My God!" he cried. "What can be the meaning of this?"</p>

<p>"I will tell you the meaning of it," cried the lady, sweeping
into the room with a proud, set face. "You have forced me,
against my own judgment, to tell you, and now we must both make
the best of it. My husband died at Atlanta. My child
survived."</p>

<p>"Your child?"</p>

<p>She drew a large silver locket from her bosom. "You have never
seen this open."</p>

<p>"I understood that it did not open."</p>

<p>She touched a spring, and the front hinged back. There was a
portrait within of a man strikingly handsome and
intelligent-looking, but bearing unmistakable signs upon his
features of his African descent.</p>

<p>"That is John Hebron, of Atlanta," said the lady, "and a
nobler man never walked the earth. I cut myself off from my race
in order to wed him, but never once while he lived did I for an
instant regret it. It was our misfortune that our only child took
after his people rather than mine. It is often so in such
matches, and little Lucy is darker far than ever her father was.
But dark or fair, she is my own dear little girlie, and her
mother's pet." The little creature ran across at the words and
nestled up against the lady's dress. "When I left her in
America," she continued, "it was only because her health was
weak, and the change might have done her harm. She was given to
the care of a faithful Scotch woman who had once been our
servant. Never for an instant did I dream of disowning her as my
child. But when chance threw you in my way, Jack, and I learned
to love you, I feared to tell you about my child. God forgive me,
I feared that I should lose you, and I had not the courage to
tell you. I had to choose between you, and in my weakness I
turned away from my own little girl. For three years I have kept
her existence a secret from you, but I heard from the nurse, and
I knew that all was well with her. At last, however, there came
an overwhelming desire to see the child once more. I struggled
against it, but in vain. Though I knew the danger, I determined
to have the child over, if it were but for a few weeks. I sent a
hundred pounds to the nurse, and I gave her instructions about
this cottage, so that she might come as a neighbor, without my
appearing to be in any way connected with her. I pushed my
precautions so far as to order her to keep the child in the house
during the daytime, and to cover up her little face and hands so
that even those who might see her at the window should not gossip
about there being a black child in the neighborhood. If I had
been less cautious I might have been more wise, but I was half
crazy with fear that you should learn the truth.</p>

<p>"It was you who told me first that the cottage was occupied. I
should have waited for the morning, but I could not sleep for
excitement, and so at last I slipped out, knowing how difficult
it is to awake you. But you saw me go, and that was the beginning
of my troubles. Next day you had my secret at your mercy, but you
nobly refrained from pursuing your advantage. Three days later,
however, the nurse and child only just escaped from the back door
as you rushed in at the front one. And now to-night you at last
know all, and I ask you what is to become of us, my child and
me?" She clasped her hands and waited for an answer.</p>

<p>It was a long ten minutes before Grant Munro broke the
silence, and when his answer came it was one of which I love to
think. He lifted the little child, kissed her, and then, still
carrying her, he held his other hand out to his wife and turned
towards the door.</p>

<p>"We can talk it over more comfortably at home," said he. "I am
not a very good man, Effie, but I think that I am a better one
than you have given me credit for being."</p>

<p>Holmes and I followed them down the lane, and my friend
plucked at my sleeve as we came out.</p>

<p>"I think," said he, "that we shall be of more use in London
than in Norbury."</p>

<p>Not another word did he say of the case until late that night,
when he was turning away, with his lighted candle, for his
bedroom.</p>

<p>"Watson," said he, "if it should ever strike you that I am
getting a little over-confident in my powers, or giving less
pains to a case than it deserves, kindly whisper 'Norbury' in my
ear, and I shall be infinitely obliged to you."</p>

<hr>
<h3 align="Center">Adventure III</h3>

<h3 align="Center">The Stock-Broker's Clerk</h3>

<br>
<p>Shortly after my marriage I had bought a connection in the
Paddington district. Old Mr. Farquhar, from whom I purchased it,
had at one time an excellent general practice; but his age, and
an affliction of the nature of St. Vitus's dance from which he
suffered, had very much thinned it. The public not unnaturally
goes on the principle that he who would heal others must himself
be whole, and looks askance at the curative powers of the man
whose own case is beyond the reach of his drugs. Thus as my
predecessor weakened his practice declined, until when I
purchased it from him it had sunk from twelve hundred to little
more than three hundred a year. I had confidence, however, in my
own youth and energy, and was convinced that in a very few years
the concern would be as flourishing as ever.</p>

<p>For three months after taking over the practice I was kept
very closely at work, and saw little of my friend Sherlock
Holmes, for I was too busy to visit Baker Street, and he seldom
went anywhere himself save upon professional business. I was
surprised, therefore, when, one morning in June, as I sat reading
the British Medical Journal after breakfast, I heard a ring at
the bell, followed by the high, somewhat strident tones of my old
companion's voice.</p>

<p>"Ah, my dear Watson," said he, striding into the room, "I am
very delighted to see you! I trust that Mrs. Watson has entirely
recovered from all the little excitements connected with our
adventure of the Sign of Four."</p>

<p>"Thank you, we are both very well," said I, shaking him warmly
by the hand.</p>

<p>"And I hope, also," he continued, sitting down in the
rocking-chair, "that the cares of medical practice have not
entirely obliterated the interest which you used to take in our
little deductive problems."</p>

<p>"On the contrary," I answered, "it was only last night that I
was looking over my old notes, and classifying some of our past
results."</p>

<p>"I trust that you don't consider your collection closed."</p>

<p>"Not at all. I should wish nothing better than to have some
more of such experiences."</p>

<p>"To-day, for example?"</p>

<p>"Yes, to-day, if you like."</p>

<p>"And as far off as Birmingham?"</p>

<p>"Certainly, if you wish it."</p>

<p>"And the practice?"</p>

<p>"I do my neighbor's when he goes. He is always ready to work
off the debt."</p>

<p>"Ha! Nothing could be better," said Holmes, leaning back in
his chair and looking keenly at me from under his half closed
lids. "I perceive that you have been unwell lately. Summer colds
are always a little trying."</p>

<p>"I was confined to the house by a sever chill for three days
last week. I thought, however, that I had cast off every trace of
it."</p>

<p>"So you have. You look remarkably robust."</p>

<p>"How, then, did you know of it?"</p>

<p>"My dear fellow, you know my methods."</p>

<p>"You deduced it, then?"</p>

<p>"Certainly."</p>

<p>"And from what?"</p>

<p>"From your slippers."</p>

<p>I glanced down at the new patent leathers which I was wearing.
"How on earth--" I began, but Holmes answered my question before
it was asked.</p>

<p>"Your slippers are new," he said. "You could not have had them
more than a few weeks. The soles which you are at this moment
presenting to me are slightly scorched. For a moment I thought
they might have got wet and been burned in the drying. But near
the instep there is a small circular wafer of paper with the
shopman's hieroglyphics upon it. Damp would of course have
removed this. You had, then, been sitting with our feet
outstretched to the fire, which a man would hardly do even in so
wet a June as this if he were in his full health."</p>

<p>Like all Holmes's reasoning the thing seemed simplicity itself
when it was once explained. He read the thought upon my features,
and his smile had a tinge of bitterness.</p>

<p>"I am afraid that I rather give myself away when I explain,"
said he. "Results without causes are much more impressive. You
are ready to come to Birmingham, then?"</p>

<p>"Certainly. What is the case?"</p>

<p>"You shall hear it all in the train. My client is outside in a
four-wheeler. Can you come at once?"</p>

<p>"In an instant." I scribbled a note to my neighbor, rushed
upstairs to explain the matter to my wife, and joined Holmes upon
the door-step.</p>

<p>"Your neighbor is a doctor," said he, nodding at the brass
plate.</p>

<p>"Yes; he bought a practice as I did."</p>

<p>"An old-established one?"</p>

<p>"Just the same as mine. Both have been ever since the houses
were built."</p>

<p>"Ah! Then you got hold of the best of the two."</p>

<p>"I think I did. But how do you know?"</p>

<p>"By the steps, my boy. Yours are worn three inches deeper than
his. But this gentleman in the cab is my client, Mr. Hall
Pycroft. Allow me to introduce you to him. Whip your horse up,
cabby, for we have only just time to catch our train."</p>

<p>The man whom I found myself facing was a well built, fresh-
complexioned young fellow, with a frank, honest face and a
slight, crisp, yellow mustache. He wore a very shiny top hat and
a neat suit of sober black, which made him look what he was--a
smart young City man, of the class who have been labeled
cockneys, but who give us our crack volunteer regiments, and who
turn out more fine athletes and sportsmen than any body of men in
these islands. His round, ruddy face was naturally full of
cheeriness, but the corners of his mouth seemed to me to be
pulled down in a half-comical distress. It was not, however,
until we were all in a first-class carriage and well started upon
our journey to Birmingham that I was able to learn what the
trouble was which had driven him to Sherlock Holmes.</p>

<p>"We have a clear run here of seventy minutes," Holmes
remarked. "I want you, Mr. Hall Pycroft, to tell my friend your
very interesting experience exactly as you have told it to me, or
with more detail if possible. It will be of use to me to hear the
succession of events again. It is a case, Watson, which may prove
to have something in it, or may prove to have nothing, but which,
at least, presents those unusual and outr&amp;eacute; features which
are as dear to you as they are to me. Now, Mr. Pycroft, I shall
not interrupt you again."</p>

<p>Our young companion looked at me with a twinkle in his
eye.</p>

<p>The worst of the story is, said he, that I show myself up as
such a confounded fool. Of course it may work out all right, and
I don't see that I could have done otherwise; but if I have lost
my crib and get nothing in exchange I shall feel what a soft
Johnnie I have been. I'm not very good at telling a story, Dr.
Watson, but it is like this with me"</p>

<p>I used to have a billet at Coxon &amp; Woodhouse's, of Draper's
Gardens, but they were let in early in the spring through the
Venezuelan loan, as no doubt you remember, and came a nasty
cropper. I had been with them five years, and old Coxon gave me a
ripping good testimonial when the smash came, but of course we
clerks were all turned adrift, the twenty-seven of us. I tried
here and tried there, but there were lots of other chaps on the
same lay as myself, and it was a perfect frost for a long time. I
had been taking three pounds a week at Coxon's, and I had saved
about seventy of them, but I soon worked my way through that and
out at the other end. I was fairly at the end of my tether at
last, and could hardly find the stamps to answer the
advertisements or the envelopes to stick them to. I had worn out
my boots paddling up office stairs, and I seemed just as far from
getting a billet as ever.</p>

<p>At last I saw a vacancy at Mawson &amp; Williams's, the great
stock-broking firm in Lombard Street. I dare say E. C. Is not
much in your line, but I can tell you that this is about the
richest house in London. The advertisement was to be answered by
letter only. I sent in my testimonial and application, but
without the least hope of getting it. Back came an answer by
return, saying that if I would appear next Monday I might take
over my new duties at once, provided that my appearance was
satisfactory. No one knows how these things are worked. Some
people say that the manager just plunges his hand into the heap
and takes the first that comes. Anyhow it was my innings that
time, and I don't ever wish to feel better pleased. The screw was
a pound a week rise, and the duties just about the same as at
Coxon's.</p>

<p>And now I come to the queer part of the business. I was in
diggings out Hampstead way, 17 Potter's Terrace. Well, I was
sitting doing a smoke that very evening after I had been promised
the appointment, when up came my landlady with a card which had
"Arthur Pinner, Financial Agent," printed upon it. I had never
heard the name before and could not imagine what he wanted with
me; but, of course, I asked her to show him up. In he walked, a
middle-sized, dark- haired, dark-eyed, black-bearded man, with a
touch of the Sheeny about his nose. He had a brisk kind of way
with him and spoke sharply, like a man who knew the value of
time.</p>

<p>"Mr. Hall Pycroft, I believe?" said he.</p>

<p>"Yes, sir," I answered, pushing a chair towards him.</p>

<p>"Lately engaged at Coxon &amp; Woodhouse's?"</p>

<p>"Yes, sir."</p>

<p>"And now on the staff of Mawson's."</p>

<p>"Quite so."</p>

<p>"Well," said he, "the fact is that I have heard some really
extraordinary stories about your financial ability. You remember
Parker, who used to be Coxon's manager? He can never say enough
about it."</p>

<p>Of course I was pleased to hear this. I had always been pretty
sharp in the office, but I had never dreamed that I was talked
about in the City in this fashion.</p>

<p>"You have a good memory?" said he.</p>

<p>"Pretty fair," I answered, modestly.</p>

<p>"Have you kept in touch with the market while you have been
out of work?" he asked.</p>

<p>"Yes. I read the stock exchange list every morning."</p>

<p>"Now that shows real application!" he cried. "That is the way
to prosper! You won't mind my testing you, will you? Let me see.
How are Ayrshires?"</p>

<p>"A hundred and six and a quarter to a hundred and five and
seven-eighths."</p>

<p>"And New Zealand consolidated?"</p>

<p>"A hundred and four."</p>

<p>"And British Broken Hills?"</p>

<p>"Seven to seven-and-six."</p>

<p>"Wonderful!" he cried, with his hands up. "This quite fits in
with all that I had heard. My boy, my boy, you are very much too
good to be a clerk at Mawson's!"</p>

<p>This outburst rather astonished me, as you can think. "Well,"
said I, "other people don't think quite so much of me as you seem
to do, Mr. Pinner. I had a hard enough fight to get this berth,
and I am very glad to have it."</p>

<p>"Pooh, man; you should soar above it. You are not in your true
sphere. Now, I'll tell you how it stands with me. What I have to
offer is little enough when measured by your ability, but when
compared with Mawson's, it's light to dark. Let me see. When do
you go to Mawson's?"</p>

<p>"On Monday."</p>

<p>"Ha, ha! I think I would risk a little sporting flutter that
you don't go there at all."</p>

<p>"Not go to Mawson's?"</p>

<p>"No, sir. By that day you will be the business manager of the
Franco-Midland Hardware Company, Limited, with a hundred and
thirty-four branches in the towns and villages of France, not
counting one in Brussels and one in San Remo."</p>

<p>This took my breath away. "I never heard of it," said I.</p>

<p>"Very likely not. It has been kept very quiet, for the capital
was all privately subscribed, and it's too good a thing to let
the public into. My brother, Harry Pinner, is promoter, and joins
the board after allotment as managing director. He knew I was in
the swim down here, and asked me to pick up a good man cheap. A
young, pushing man with plenty of snap about him. Parker spoke of
you, and that brought me here tonight. We can only offer you a
beggarly five hundred to start with."</p>

<p>"Five hundred a year!" I shouted.</p>

<p>"Only that at the beginning; but you are to have an overriding
commission of one per cent on all business done by your agents,
and you may take my word for it that this will come to more than
your salary."</p>

<p>"But I know nothing about hardware."</p>

<p>"Tut, my boy; you know about figures."</p>

<p>My head buzzed, and I could hardly sit still in my chair. But
suddenly a little chill of doubt came upon me.</p>

<p>"I must be frank with you," said I. "Mawson only gives me two
hundred, but Mawson is safe. Now, really, I know so little about
your company that--"</p>

<p>"Ah, smart, smart!" he cried, in a kind of ecstasy of delight.
"You are the very man for us. You are not to be talked over, and
quite right, too. Now, here's a note for a hundred pounds, and if
you think that we can do business you may just slip it into your
pocket as an advance upon your salary."</p>

<p>"That is very handsome," said I. "When should I take over my
new duties?"</p>

<p>"Be in Birmingham to-morrow at one," said he. "I have a note
in my pocket here which you will take to my brother. You will
find him at 126b Corporation Street, where the temporary offices
of the company are situated. Of course he must confirm your
engagement, but between ourselves it will be all right."</p>

<p>"Really, I hardly know how to express my gratitude, Mr.
Pinner," said I.</p>

<p>"Not at all, my boy. You have only got your desserts. There
are one or two small things--mere formalities--which I must
arrange with you. You have a bit of paper beside you there.
Kindly write upon it 'I am perfectly willing to act as business
manager to the Franco-Midland Hardware Company, Limited, at a
minimum salary of L500."</p>

<p>I did as he asked, and he put the paper in his pocket.</p>

<p>"There is one other detail," said he. "What do you intend to
do about Mawson's?"</p>

<p>I had forgotten all about Mawson's in my joy. "I'll write and
resign," said I.</p>

<p>"Precisely what I don't want you to do. I had a row over you
with Mawson's manager. I had gone up to ask him about you, and he
was very offensive; accused me of coaxing you away from the
service of the firm, and that sort of thing. At last I fairly
lost my temper. 'If you want good men you should pay them a good
price,' said I.</p>

<p>"'He would rather have our small price than your big one,'
said he.</p>

<p>"'I'll lay you a fiver,' said I, 'that when he has my offer
you'll never so much as hear from him again.'</p>

<p>"'Done!' said he. 'We picked him out of the gutter, and he
won't leave us so easily.' Those were his very words."</p>

<p>"The impudent scoundrel!" I cried. "I've never so much as seen
him in my life. Why should I consider him in any way? I shall
certainly not write if you would rather I didn't."</p>

<p>"Good! That's a promise," said he, rising from his chair.
"Well, I'm delighted to have got so good a man for my brother.
Here's your advance of a hundred pounds, and here is the letter.
Make a not of the address, 126b Corporation Street, and remember
that one o'clock to-morrow is your appointment. Good-night; and
may you have all the fortune that you deserve!"</p>

<p>That's just about all that passed between us, as near as I can
remember. You can imagine, Dr. Watson, how pleased I was at such
an extraordinary bit of good fortune. I sat up half the night
hugging myself over it, and next day I was off to Birmingham in a
train that would take me in plenty time for my appointment. I
took my things to a hotel in New Street, and then I made my way
to the address which had been given me.</p>

<p>It was a quarter of an hour before my time, but I thought that
would make no difference. 126b was a passage between two large
shops, which led to a winding stone stair, from which there were
many flats, let as offices to companies or professional men. The
names of the occupants were painted at the bottom on the wall,
but there was no such name as the Franco-Midland Hardware
Company, Limited. I stood for a few minutes with my heart in my
boots, wondering whether the whole thing was an elaborate hoax or
not, when up came a man and addressed me. He was very like the
chap I had seen the night before, the same figure and voice, but
he was clean shaven and his hair was lighter.</p>

<p>"Are you Mr. Hall Pycroft?" he asked.</p>

<p>"Yes," said I.</p>

<p>"Oh! I was expecting you, but you are a trifle before your
time. I had a note from my brother this morning in which he sang
your praises very loudly."</p>

<p>"I was just looking for the offices when you came."</p>

<p>"We have not got our name up yet, for we only secured these
temporary premises last week. Come up with me, and we will talk
the matter over."</p>

<p>I followed him to the top of a very lofty stair, and there,
right under the slates, were a couple of empty, dusty little
rooms, uncarpeted and uncurtained, into which he led me. I had
thought of a great office with shining tables and rows of clerks,
such as I was used to, and I dare say I stared rather straight at
the two deal chairs and one little table, which, with a ledger
and a waste paper basket, made up the whole furniture.</p>

<p>"Don't be disheartened, Mr. Pycroft," said my new
acquaintance, seeing the length of my face. "Rome was not built
in a day, and we have lots of money at our backs, though we don't
cut much dash yet in offices. Pray sit down, and let me have your
letter."</p>

<p>I gave it to him, and her read it over very carefully.</p>

<p>"You seem to have made a vast impression upon my brother
Arthur," said he; "and I know that he is a pretty shrewd judge.
Hew swears by London, you know; and I by Birmingham; but this
time I shall follow his advice. Pray consider yourself definitely
engaged."</p>

<p>"What are my duties?" I asked.</p>

<p>"You will eventually manage the great depot in Paris, which
will pour a flood of English crockery into the shops of a hundred
and thirty-four agents in France. The purchase will be completed
in a week, and meanwhile you will remain in Birmingham and make
yourself useful."</p>

<p>"How?"</p>

<p>For answer, he took a big red book out of a drawer.</p>

<p>"This is a directory of Paris," said he, "with the trades
after the names of the people. I want you to take it home with
you, and to mark off al the hardware sellers, with their
addresses. It would be of the greatest use to me to have
them."</p>

<p>"Surely there are classified lists?" I suggested.</p>

<p>"Not reliable ones. Their system is different from ours. Stick
at it, and let me have the lists by Monday, at twelve. Good-day,
Mr. Pycroft. If you continue to show zeal and intelligence you
will find the company a good master."</p>

<p>I went back to the hotel with the big book under my arm, and
with very conflicting feelings in my breast. On the one hand, I
was definitely engaged and had a hundred pounds in my pocket; on
the other, the look of the offices, the absence of name on the
wall, and other of the points which would strike a business man
had left a bad impression as to the position of my employers.
However, come what might, I had my money, so I settled down to my
task. All Sunday I was kept hard at work, and yet by Monday I had
only got as far as H. I went round to my employer, found him in
the same dismantled kind of room, and was told to keep at it
until Wednesday, and then come again. On Wednesday it was still
unfinished, so I hammered away until Friday--that is, yesterday.
Then I brought it round to Mr. Harry Pinner.</p>

<p>"Thank you very much," said he; "I fear that I underrated the
difficulty of the task. This list will be of very material
assistance to me."</p>

<p>"It took some time," said I.</p>

<p>"And now," said he, "I want you to make a list of the
furniture shops, for they all sell crockery."</p>

<p>"Very good."</p>

<p>"And you can come up to-morrow evening, at seven, and let me
know how you are getting on. Don't overwork yourself. A couple of
hours at Day's Music Hall in the evening would do you no harm
after your labors." He laughed as he spoke, and I saw with a
thrill that his second tooth upon the left-hand side had been
very badly stuffed with gold.</p>

<p>Sherlock Holmes rubbed his hands with delight, and I stared
with astonishment at our client.</p>

<p>"You may well look surprised, Dr. Watson; but it is this way,"
said he: "When I was speaking to the other chap in London, at the
time that he laughed at my not going to Mawson's, I happened to
notice that his tooth was stuffed in this very identical fashion.
The glint of the gold in each case caught my eye, you see. When I
put that with the voice and figure being the same, and only those
things altered which might be changed by a razor or a wig, I
could not doubt that it was the same man. Of course you expect
two brothers to be alike, but not that they should have the same
tooth stuffed in the same way. He bowed me out, and I found
myself in the street, hardly knowing whether I was on my head or
my heels. Back I went to my hotel, put my head in a basin of cold
water, and tried to think it out. Why had he sent me from London
to Birmingham? Why had he got there before me? And why had he
written a letter from himself to himself? It was altogether too
much for me, and I could make no sense of it. And then suddenly
it struck me that what was dark to me might be very light to Mr.
Sherlock Holmes. I had just time to get up to town by the night
train to see him this morning, and to bring you both back with me
to Birmingham."</p>

<p>There was a pause after the stock-broker's clerk had concluded
his surprising experience. Then Sherlock Holmes cocked his eye at
me, leaning back on the cushions with a pleased and yet critical
face, like a connoisseur who has just taken his first sip of a
comet vintage.</p>

<p>"Rather fine, Watson, is it not?" said he. "There are points
in it which please me. I think that you will agree with me that
an interview with Mr. Arthur Harry Pinner in the temporary
offices of the Franco-Midland Hardware Company, Limited, would be
a rather interesting experience for both of us."</p>

<p>"But how can we do it?" I asked.</p>

<p>"Oh, easily enough," said Hall Pycroft, cheerily. "You are two
friends of mine who are in want of a billet, and what could be
more natural than that I should bring you both round to the
managing director?"</p>

<p>"Quite so, of course," said Holmes. "I should like to have a
look at the gentleman, and see if I can make anything of his
little game. What qualities have you, my friend, which would make
your services so valuable? or is it possible that--" He began
biting his nails and staring blankly out of the window, and we
hardly drew another word from him until we were in New
Street.</p>

<p>At seven o'clock that evening we were walking, the three of
us, down Corporation Street to the company's offices.</p>

<p>"It is no use our being at all before our time," said our
client. "He only comes there to see me, apparently, for the place
is deserted up to the very hour he names."</p>

<p>"That is suggestive," remarked Holmes.</p>

<p>"By Jove, I told you so!" cried the clerk. "That's he walking
ahead of us there."</p>

<p>He pointed to a smallish, dark, well-dressed man who was
bustling along the other side of the road. As we watched him he
looked across at a boy who was bawling out the latest edition of
the evening paper, and running over among the cabs and busses, he
bought one from him. Then, clutching it in his hand, he vanished
through a door-way.</p>

<p>"There he goes!" cried Hall Pycroft. "These are the company's
offices into which he has gone. Come with me, and I'll fix it up
as easily as possible."</p>

<p>Following his lead, we ascended five stories, until we found
ourselves outside a half-opened door, at which our client tapped.
A voice within bade us enter, and we entered a bare, unfurnished
room such as Hall Pycroft had described. At the single table sat
the man whom we had seen in the street, with his evening paper
spread out in front of him, and as he looked up at us it seemed
to me that I had never looked upon a face which bore such marks
of grief, and of something beyond grief--of a horror such as
comes to few men in a lifetime. His brow glistened wit
perspiration, his cheeks were of the dull, dead white of a fish's
belly, and his eyes were wild and staring. He looked at his clerk
as though he failed to recognize him, and I could see by the
astonishment depicted upon our conductor's face that this was by
no means the usual appearance of his employer.</p>

<p>"You look ill, Mr. Pinner!" he exclaimed.</p>

<p>"Yes, I am not very well," answered the other, making obvious
efforts to pull himself together, and licking his dry lips before
he spoke. "Who are these gentlemen whom you have brought with
you?"</p>

<p>"One is Mr. Harris, of Bermondsey, and the other is Mr. Price,
of this town," said our clerk, glibly. "They are friends of mine
and gentlemen of experience, but they have been out of a place
for some little time, and they hoped that perhaps you might find
an opening for them in the company's employment."</p>

<p>"Very possibly! Very possibly!" cried Mr. Pinner with a
ghastly smile. "Yes, I have no doubt that we shall be able to do
something for you. What is your particular line, Mr. Harris?"</p>

<p>"I am an accountant," said Holmes.</p>

<p>"Ah yes, we shall want something of the sort. And you, Mr.
Price?"</p>

<p>"A clerk," said I.</p>

<p>"I have every hope that the company may accommodate you. I
will let you know about it as soon as we come to any conclusion.
And now I beg that you will go. For God's sake leave me to
myself!"</p>

<p>These last words were shot out of him, as though the
constraint which he was evidently setting upon himself had
suddenly and utterly burst asunder. Holmes and I glanced at each
other, and Hall Pycroft took a step towards the table.</p>

<p>"You forget, Mr. Pinner, that I am here by appointment to
receive some directions from you," said he.</p>

<p>"Certainly, Mr. Pycroft, certainly," the other resumed in a
calmer tone. "You may wait here a moment; and there is no reason
why your friends should not wait with you. I will be entirely at
your service in three minutes, if I might trespass upon your
patience so far." He rose with a very courteous air, and, bowing
to us, he passed out through a door at the farther end of the
room, which he closed behind him.</p>

<p>"What now?" whispered Holmes. "Is he giving us the slip?"</p>

<p>"Impossible," answered Pycroft.</p>

<p>"Why so?"</p>

<p>"That door leads into an inner room."</p>

<p>"There is no exit?"</p>

<p>"None."</p>

<p>"Is it furnished?"</p>

<p>"It was empty yesterday."</p>

<p>"Then what on earth can he be doing? There is something which
I don't understand in his manner. If ever a man was three parts
mad with terror, that man's name is Pinner. What can have put the
shivers on him?"</p>

<p>"He suspects that we are detectives," I suggested.</p>

<p>"That's it," cried Pycroft.</p>

<p>Holmes shook his head. "He did not turn pale. He was pale when
we entered the room," said he. "It is just possible that--"</p>

<p>His words were interrupted by a sharp rat-tat from the
direction of the inner door.</p>

<p>"What the deuce is he knocking at his own door for?" cried the
clerk.</p>

<p>Again and much louder cam the rat-tat-tat. We all gazed
expectantly at the closed door. Glancing at Holmes, I saw his
face turn rigid, and he leaned forward in intense excitement.
Then suddenly came a low guggling, gargling sound, and a brisk
drumming upon woodwork. Holmes sprang frantically across the room
and pushed at the door. It was fastened on the inner side.
Following his example, we threw ourselves upon it with all our
weight. One hinge snapped, then the other, and down came the door
with a crash. Rushing over it, we found ourselves in the inner
room. It was empty.</p>

<p>But it was only for a moment that we were at fault. At one
corner, the corner nearest the room which we had left, there was
a second door. Holmes sprang to it and pulled it open. A coat and
waistcoat were lying on the floor, and from a hook behind the
door, with his own braces round his neck, was hanging the
managing director of the Franco-Midland Hardware Company. His
knees were drawn up, his head hung at a dreadful angle to his
body, and the clatter of his heels against the door made the
noise which had broken in upon our conversation. In an instant I
had caught him round the waist, and held him up while Holmes and
Pycroft untied the elastic bands which had disappeared between
the livid creases of skin. Then we carried him into the other
room, where he lay with a clay-colored face, puffing his purple
lips in and out with every breath--a dreadful wreck of all that
he had been but five minutes before.</p>

<p>"What do you think of him, Watson?" asked Holmes.</p>

<p>I stooped over him and examined him. His pule was feeble and
intermittent, but his breathing grew longer, and there was a
little shivering of his eyelids, which showed a thin white slit
of ball beneath.</p>

<p>"It has been touch and go with him," said I, "but he'll live
now. Just open that window, and hand me the water carafe." I
undid his collar, poured the cold water over his face, and raised
and sank his arms until he drew a long, natural breath. "It's
only a question of time now," said I, as I turned away from
him.</p>

<p>Holmes stood by the table, with his hands deep in his
trouser's pockets and his chin upon his breast.</p>

<p>"I suppose we ought to call the police in now," said he. "And
yet I confess that I'd like to give them a complete case when
they come."</p>

<p>"It's a blessed mystery to me," cried Pycroft, scratching his
head. "Whatever they wanted to bring me all the way up here for,
and then--"</p>

<p>"Pooh! All that is clear enough," said Holmes impatiently. "It
is this last sudden move."</p>

<p>"You understand the rest, then?"</p>

<p>"I think that it is fairly obvious. What do you say,
Watson?"</p>

<p>I shrugged my shoulders. "I must confess that I am out of my
depths," said I.</p>

<p>"Oh surely if you consider the events at first they can only
point to one conclusion."</p>

<p>"What do you make of them?"</p>

<p>"Well, the whole thing hinges upon two points. The first is
the making of Pycroft write a declaration by which he entered the
service of this preposterous company. Do you not see how very
suggestive that is?"</p>

<p>"I am afraid I miss the point."</p>

<p>"Well, why did they want him to do it? Not as a business
matter, for these arrangements are usually verbal, and there was
no earthly business reason why this should be an exception. Don't
you see, my young friend, that they were very anxious to obtain a
specimen of your handwriting, and had no other way of doing
it?"</p>

<p>"And why?"</p>

<p>"Quite so. Why? When we answer that we have made some progress
with our little problem. Why? There can be only one adequate
reason. Some one wanted to learn to imitate your writing, and had
to procure a specimen of it first. And now if we pass on to the
second point we find that each throws light upon the other. That
point is the request made by Pinner that you should not resign
your place, but should leave the manager of this important
business in the full expectation that a Mr. Hall Pycroft, whom he
had never seen, was about to enter the office upon the Monday
morning."</p>

<p>"My God!" cried our client, "what a blind beetle I have
been!"</p>

<p>"Now you see the point about the handwriting. Suppose that
some one turned up in your place who wrote a completely different
hand from that in which you had applied for the vacancy, of
course the game would have been up. But in the interval the rogue
had learned to imitate you, and his position was therefore
secure, as I presume that nobody in the office had ever set eyes
upon you."</p>

<p>"Not a soul," groaned Hall Pycroft.</p>

<p>"Very good. Of course it was of the utmost importance to
prevent you from thinking better of it, and also to keep you from
coming into contact with any one who might tell you that your
double was at work in Mawson's office. Therefore they gave you a
handsome advance on your salary, and ran you off to the Midlands,
where they gave you enough work to do to prevent your going to
London, where you might have burst their little game up. That is
all plain enough."</p>

<p>"But why should this man pretend to be his won brother?"</p>

<p>"Well, that is pretty clear also. There are evidently only two
of them in it. The other is personating you at the office. This
one acted as your engager, and then found that he could not find
you an employer without admitting a third person into his plot.
That he was most unwilling to do. He changed his appearance as
far as he could, and trusted that the likeness, which you could
not fail to observe, would be put down to a family resemblance.
But for the happy chance of the gold stuffing, your suspicions
would probably never have been aroused."</p>

<p>Hall Pycroft shook his clinched hands in the air. "Good Lord!"
he cried, "while I have been fooled in this way, what has this
other Hall Pycroft been doing at Mawson's? What should we do, Mr.
Holmes? Tell me what to do."</p>

<p>"We must wire to Mawson's."</p>

<p>"They shut at twelve on Saturdays."</p>

<p>"Never mind. There may be some door-keeper or attendant--"</p>

<p>"Ah yes, they keep a permanent guard there on account of the
value of the securities that they hold. I remember hearing it
talked of in the City."</p>

<p>"Very good; we shall wire to him, and see if all is well, and
if a clerk of your name is working there. That is clear enough;
but what is not so clear is why at sight of us one of the rogues
should instantly walk out of the room and hang himself."</p>

<p>"The paper!" croaked a voice behind us. The man was sitting
up, blanched and ghastly, with returning reason in his eyes, and
hands which rubbed nervously at the broad red band which still
encircled his throat.</p>

<p>"The paper! Of course!" yelled Holmes, in a paroxysm of
excitement. "Idiot that I was! I thought so must of our visit
that the paper never entered my head for an instant. To be sure,
the secret must be there." He flattened it out upon the table,
and a cry of triumph burst from his lips. "Look at this, Watson,"
he cried. "It is a London paper, an early edition of the Evening
Standard. Here is what we want. Look at the headlines: 'Crime in
the City. Murder at Mawson &amp; Williams's. Gigantic attempted
Robbery. Capture of the Criminal.' Here, Watson, we are all
equally anxious to hear it, so kindly read it aloud to us."</p>

<p>It appeared from its position in the paper to have been the
one event of importance in town, and the account of it ran in
this way:</p>

<p>"A desperate attempt at robbery, culminating in the death of
one man and the capture of the criminal, occurred this afternoon
in the City. For some time back Mawson &amp; Williams, the famous
financial house, have been the guardians of securities which
amount in the aggregate to a sum of considerably over a million
sterling. So conscious was the manager of the responsibility
which devolved upon him in consequence of the great interests at
stake that safes of the very latest construction have been
employed, and an armed watchman has been left day and night in
the building. It appears that last week a new clerk named Hall
Pycroft was engaged by the firm. This person appears to have been
none other that Beddington, the famous forger and cracksman, who,
with his brother, had only recently emerged from a five years'
spell of penal servitude. By some mean, which are not yet clear,
he succeeded in wining, under a false name, this official
position in the office, which he utilized in order to obtain
moulding of various locks, and a thorough knowledge of the
position of the strong room and the safes.</p>

<p>"It is customary at Mawson's for the clerks to leave at midday
on Saturday. Sergeant Tuson, of the City Police, was somewhat
surprised, therefore to see a gentleman with a carpet bag come
down the steps at twenty minutes past one. His suspicions being
aroused, the sergeant followed the man, and with the aid of
Constable Pollack succeeded, after a most desperate resistance,
in arresting him. It was at once clear that a daring and gigantic
robbery had been committed. Nearly a hundred thousand pounds'
worth of American railway bonds, with a large amount of scrip in
mines and other companies, was discovered in the bag. On
examining the premises the body of the unfortunate watchman was
found doubled up and thrust into the largest of the safes, where
it would not have been discovered until Monday morning had it not
been for the prompt action of Sergeant Tuson. The man's skull had
been shattered by a blow from a poker delivered from behind.
There could be no doubt that Beddington had obtained entrance by
pretending that he had left something behind him, and having
murdered the watchman, rapidly rifled the large safe, and then
made off with his booty. His brother, who usually works with him,
has not appeared in this job as far as can at present be
ascertained, although the police are making energetic inquiries
as to his whereabouts."</p>

<p>"Well, we may save the police some little trouble in that
direction," said Holmes, glancing at the haggard figure huddled
up by the window. "Human nature is a strange mixture, Watson. You
see that even a villain and murderer can inspire such affection
that his brother turns to suicide when he learns that his neck is
forfeited. However, we have no choice as to our action. The
doctor and I will remain on guard, Mr. Pycroft, if you will have
the kindness to step out for the police."</p>

<hr>
<h3 align="Center">Adventure IV</h3>

<h3 align="Center">The "Gloria Scott"</h3>

<p><br>
</p>

<p>I have some papers here," said my friend Sherlock Holmes, as
we sat one winter's night on either side of the fire, "which I
really think, Watson, that it would be worth your while to glance
over. These are the documents in the extraordinary case of the
Gloria Scott, and this is the message which struck Justice of the
Peace Trevor dead with horror when he read it."</p>

<p>He had picked from a drawer a little tarnished cylinder, and,
undoing the tape, he handed me a short note scrawled upon a
half-sheet of slate gray-paper.</p>

<p>"The supply of game for London is going steadily up," it ran.
"Head-keeper Hudson, we believe, had been now told to receive all
orders for fly-paper and for preservation of you hen-pheasant's
life."</p>

<p>As I glanced up from reading this enigmatical message, I saw
Holmes chuckling at the expression upon my face.</p>

<p>"You look a little bewildered," said he.</p>

<p>"I cannot see how such a message as this could inspire horror.
It seems to me to be rather grotesque than otherwise."</p>

<p>"Very likely. Yet the fact remains that the reader, who was a
fine, robust old man, was knocked clean down by it as if it had
been the butt end of a pistol."</p>

<p>"You arouse my curiosity," said I. "But why did you say just
now that there were very particular reasons why I should study
this case?"</p>

<p>"Because it was the first in which I was ever engaged."</p>

<p>I had often endeavored to elicit from my companion what had
first turned is mind in the direction of criminal research, but
had never caught him before in a communicative humor. Now he sat
forward in this arm chair and spread out the documents upon his
knees. Then he lit his pipe and sat for some time smoking and
turning them over.</p>

<p>"You never heard me talk of Victor Trevor?" he asked. "He was
the only friend I made during the two years I was at college. I
was never a very sociable fellow, Watson, always rather fond of
moping in my rooms and working out my own little methods of
thought, so that I never mixed much with the men of my year. Bar
fencing and boxing I had few athletic tastes, and then my line of
study was quite distinct from that of the other fellows, so that
we had no pints of contact at all. Trevor was the only man I
knew, and that only through the accident of his bull terrier
freezing on to my ankle one morning as I went down to chapel.</p>

<p>"It was a prosaic way of forming a friendship, but it was
effective. I was laid by the heels for ten days, but Trevor used
to come in to inquire after me. At first it was only a minute's
chat, but soon his visits lengthened, and before the end of the
term we were close friends. He was a hearty, full-blooded fellow,
full of spirits and energy, the very opposite to me in most
respects, but we had some subjects in common, and it was a bond
of union when I found that he was as friendless as I. Finally, he
invited me down to his father's place at Donnithorpe, in Norfolk,
and I accepted his hospitality for a month of the long
vacation.</p>

<p>"Old Trevor was evidently a man of some wealth and
consideration, a J.P., and a landed proprietor. Donnithorpe is a
little hamlet just to the north of Langmere, in the country of
the Broads. The house was and old-fashioned, wide-spread,
oak-beamed brick building, with a fine lime-lined avenue leading
up to it. There was excellent wild-duck shooting in the fens,
remarkably good fishing, a small but select library, taken over,
as I understood, from a former occupant, and a tolerable cook, so
that he would be a fastidious man who could not put in a pleasant
month there.</p>

<p>"Trevor senior was a widower, and my friend his only son.</p>

<p>"There had been a daughter, I heard, but she had died of
diphtheria while on a visit to Birmingham. The father interested
me extremely. He was a man of little culture, but with a
considerable amount of rude strength, both physically and
mentally. He knew hardly any books, but he had traveled far, had
seen much of the world. And had remembered all that he had
learned. In person he was a thick-set, burly man with a shock of
grizzled hair, a brown, weather-beaten face, and blue eyes which
were keen to the verge of fierceness. Yet he had a reputation for
kindness and charity on the country-side, and was noted for the
leniency of his sentences from the bench.</p>

<p>"One evening, shortly after my arrival, we were sitting over a
glass of port after dinner, when young Trevor began to talk about
those habits of observation and inference which I had already
formed into a system, although I had not yet appreciated the part
which they were to play in my life. The old man evidently thought
that his son was exaggerating in his description of one or two
trivial feats which I had performed.</p>

<p>"'Come, now, Mr. Holmes,' said he, laughing good-humoredly.
'I'm an excellent subject, if you can deduce anything from
me.'</p>

<p>"'I fear there is not very much,' I answered; 'I might suggest
that you have gone about in fear of some personal attack with the
last twelvemonth.'</p>

<p>"The laugh faded from his lips, and he stared at me in great
surprise.</p>

<p>"'Well, that's true enough,' said he. 'You know, Victor,'
turning to his son, 'when we broke up that poaching gang they
swore to knife us, and Sir Edward Holly has actually been
attacked. I've always been on my guard since then, though I have
no idea how you know it.'</p>

<p>"'You have a very handsome stick,' I answered. 'By the
inscription I observed that you had not had it more than a year.
But you have taken some pains to bore the head of it and pour
melted lead into the hole so as to make it a formidable weapon. I
argued that you would not take such precautions unless you had
some danger to fear.'</p>

<p>"'Anything else?' he asked, smiling.</p>

<p>"'You have boxed a good deal in your youth.'</p>

<p>"'Right again. How did you know it? Is my nose knocked a
little out of the straight?' "'No,' said I. 'It is your ears.
They have the peculiar flattening and thickening which marks the
boxing man.'</p>

<p>"'Anything else?'</p>

<p>"'You have done a good deal of digging by your
callosities.'</p>

<p>"'Made all my money at the gold fields.'</p>

<p>"'You have been in New Zealand.'</p>

<p>"'Right again.'</p>

<p>"'You have visited Japan.'</p>

<p>"'Quite true.'</p>

<p>"'And you have been most intimately associated with some one
whose initials were J. A., and whom you afterwards were eager to
entirely forget.'</p>

<p>"Mr. Trevor stood slowly up, fixed his large blue eyes upon me
with a strange wild stare, and then pitched forward, with his
face among the nutshells which strewed the cloth, in a dead
faint.</p>

<p>"You can imagine, Watson, how shocked both his son and I were.
His attack did not last long, however, for when we undid his
collar, and sprinkled the water from one of the finger-glasses
over his face, he gave a gasp or two and sat up.</p>

<p>"'Ah, boys,' said he, forcing a smile, 'I hope I haven't
frightened you. Strong as I look, there is a weak place in my
heart, and it does not take much to knock me over. I don't know
how you manage this, Mr. Holmes, but it seems to me that all the
detectives of fact and of fancy would be children in your hands.
That's you line of life, sir, and you may take the word of a man
who has seen something of the world.'</p>

<p>"And that recommendation, with the exaggerated estimate of my
ability with which he prefaced it, was, if you will believe me,
Watson, the very first thing which ever made me feel that a
profession might be made out of what had up to that time been the
merest hobby. At the moment, however, I was too much concerned at
the sudden illness of my host to think of anything else.</p>

<p>"'I hope that I have said nothing to pain you?' said I.</p>

<p>"'Well, you certainly touched upon rather a tender point.
Might I ask how you know, and how much you know?' He spoke now in
a half-jesting fashion, but a look of terror still lurked at the
back of his eyes.</p>

<p>"'It is simplicity itself,' said I. 'When you bared your arm
to draw that fish into the boat I saw that J. A. Had been
tattooed in the bend of the elbow. The letters were still
legible, but it was perfectly clear from their blurred
appearance, and from the staining of the skin round them, that
efforts had been made to obliterate them. It was obvious, then,
that those initials had once been very familiar to you, and that
you had afterwards wished to forget them.'</p>

<p>"What an eye you have!" he cried, with a sigh of relief. 'It
is just as you say. But we won't talk of it. Of all ghosts the
ghosts of our old lovers are the worst. Come into the
billiard-room and have a quiet cigar.'</p>

<p>"From that day, amid all his cordiality, there was always a
touch of suspicion in Mr. Trevor's manner towards me. Even his
son remarked it. 'You've given the governor such a turn,' said
he, 'that he'll never be sure again of what you know and what you
don't know.' He did not mean to show it, I am sure, but it was so
strongly in his mind that it peeped out at every action. At last
I became so convinced that I was causing him uneasiness that I
drew my visit to a close. On the very day, however, before I
left, and incident occurred which proved in the sequel to be of
importance.</p>

<p>"We were sitting out upon the lawn on garden chairs, the three
of us, basking in the sun and admiring the view across the
Broads, when a maid came out to say that there was a man at the
door who wanted to see Mr. Trevor.</p>

<p>"'What is his name?' asked my host.</p>

<p>"'He would not give any.'</p>

<p>"'What does he want, then?'</p>

<p>"'He says that you know him, and that he only wants a moment's
conversation.'</p>

<p>"'Show him round here.' An instant afterwards there appeared a
little wizened fellow with a cringing manner and a shambling
style of walking. He wore an open jacket, with a splotch of tar
on the sleeve, a red-and-black check shirt, dungaree trousers,
and heavy boots badly worn. His face was thin and brown and
crafty, with a perpetual smile upon it, which showed an irregular
line of yellow teeth, and his crinkled hands were half closed in
a way that is distinctive of sailors. As he came slouching across
the lawn I heard Mr. Trevor make a sort of hiccoughing noise in
his throat, and jumping out of his chair, he ran into the house.
He was back in a moment, and I smelt a strong reek of brandy as
he passed me.</p>

<p>"'Well, my man,' said he. 'What can I do for you?'</p>

<p>"The sailor stood looking at him with puckered eyes, and with
the same loose-lipped smile upon his face.</p>

<p>"'You don't know me?' he asked.</p>

<p>"'Why, dear me, it is surely Hudson,' said Mr. Trevor in a
tone of surprise.</p>

<p>"'Hudson it is, sir,' said the seaman. 'Why, it's thirty year
and more since I saw you last. Here you are in your house, and me
still picking my salt meat out of the harness cask.'</p>

<p>"'Tut, you will find that I have not forgotten old times,'
cried Mr. Trevor, and, walking towards the sailor, he said
something in a low voice. 'Go into the kitchen,' he continued out
loud, 'and you will get food and drink. I have no doubt that I
shall find you a situation.'</p>

<p>"'Thank you, sir,' said the seaman, touching his fore-lock.
'I'm just off a two-yearer in an eight-knot tramp, short-handed
at that, and I wants a rest. I thought I'd get it either with Mr.
Beddoes or with you.'</p>

<p>"'Ah!' cried Trevor. 'You know where Mr. Beddoes is?'</p>

<p>"'Bless you, sir, I know where all my old friends are,' said
the fellow with a sinister smile, and he slouched off after the
maid to the kitchen. Mr. Trevor mumbled something to us about
having been shipmate with the man when he was going back to the
diggings, and then, leaving us on the lawn, he went indoors. An
hour later, when we entered the house, we found him stretched
dead drunk upon the dining-room sofa. The whole incident left a
most ugly impression upon my mind, and I was not sorry next day
to leave Donnithorpe behind me, for I felt that my presence must
be a source of embarrassment to my friend.</p>

<p>"All this occurred during the first month of the long
vacation. I went up to my London rooms, where I spent seven weeks
working out a few experiments in organic chemistry. On day,
however, when the autumn was far advanced and the vacation
drawing to a close, I received a telegram from my friend
imploring me to return to Donnithorpe, and saying that he was in
great need of my advice and assistance. Of course I dropped
everything and set out for the North once more.</p>

<p>"He met me with the dog-cart at the station, and I saw at a
glance that the last two months had been very trying ones for
him. He had grown thin and careworn, and had lost the loud,
cheery manner for which he had been remarkable.</p>

<p>"'The governor is dying,' were the first words he said.</p>

<p>"'Impossible!' I cried. 'What is the matter?'</p>

<p>"'Apoplexy. Nervous shock, He's been on the verge all day. I
doubt if we shall find him alive.'</p>

<p>"I was, as you may think, Watson, horrified at this unexpected
news.</p>

<p>"'What has caused it?' I asked.</p>

<p>"'Ah, that is the point. Jump in and we can talk it over while
we drive. You remember that fellow who came upon the evening
before you left us?'</p>

<p>"'Perfectly.'</p>

<p>"'Do you know who it was that we let into the house that
day?'</p>

<p>"'I have no idea.'</p>

<p>"'It was the devil, Holmes,' he cried.</p>

<p>"I stared at him in astonishment.</p>

<p>"'Yes, it was the devil himself. We have not had a peaceful
hour since--not one. The governor has never held up his head from
that evening, and now the life has been crushed out of him and
his heart broken, all through this accursed Hudson.'</p>

<p>"'What power had he, then?'</p>

<p>"'Ah, that is what I would give so much to know. The kindly,
charitable, good old governor--how could he have fallen into the
clutches of such a ruffian! But I am so glad that you have come,
Holmes. I trust very much to your judgment and discretion, and I
know that you will advise me for the best.'</p>

<p>"We were dashing along the smooth white country road, with the
long stretch of the Broads in front of us glimmering in the red
light of the setting sun. From a grove upon our left I could
already see the high chimneys and the flag-staff which marked the
squire's dwelling.</p>

<p>"'My father made the fellow gardener,' said my companion, 'and
then, as that did not satisfy him, he was promoted to be butler.
The house seemed to be at his mercy, and he wandered about and
did what he chose in it. The maids complained of his drunken
habits and his vile language. The dad raised their wages all
round to recompense them for the annoyance. The fellow would take
the boat and my father's best gun and treat himself to little
shooting trips. And all this with such a sneering, leering,
insolent face that I would have knocked him down twenty times
over if he had been a man of my own age. I tell you, Holmes, I
have had to keep a tight hold upon myself all this time; and now
I am asking myself whether, if I had let myself go a little more,
I might not have been a wiser man.</p>

<p>"'Well, matters went from bad to worse with us, and this
animal Hudson became more and more intrusive, until at last, on
making some insolent reply to my father in my presence one day, I
took him by the shoulders and turned him out of the room. He
slunk away with a livid face and two venomous eyes which uttered
more threats than his tongue could do. I don't know what passed
between the poor dad and him after that, but the dad came to me
next day and asked me whether I would mind apologizing to Hudson.
I refused, as you can imagine, and asked my father how he could
allow such a wretch to take such liberties with himself and his
household.</p>

<p>"'"Ah, my boy," said he, "it is all very well to talk, but you
don't know how I am placed. But you shall know, Victor. I'll see
that you shall know, come what may. You wouldn't believe harm of
your poor old father, would you, lad?" He was very much moved,
and shut himself up in the study all day, where I could see
through the window that he was writing busily.</p>

<p>"'That evening there came what seemed to me to be a grand
release, for Hudson told us that he was going to leave us. He
walked into the dining-room as we sat after dinner, and announced
his intention in the thick voice of a half-drunken man.</p>

<p>"'"I've had enough of Norfolk," said he. "I'll run down to Mr.
Beddoes in Hampshire. He'll be as glad to see me as you were, I
dare say."</p>

<p>"'"You're not going away in any kind of spirit, Hudson, I
hope," said my father, with a tameness which mad my blood
boil.</p>

<p>"'"I've not had my 'pology," said he sulkily, glancing in my
direction.</p>

<p>"'"Victor, you will acknowledge that you have used this worthy
fellow rather roughly," said the dad, turning to me.</p>

<p>"'"On the contrary, I think that we have both shown
extraordinary patience towards him," I answered.</p>

<p>"'"Oh, you do, do you?" he snarls. "Very good, mate. We'll see
about that!"</p>

<p>"'He slouched out of the room, and half an hour afterwards
left the house, leaving my father in a state of pitiable
nervousness. Night after night I heard him pacing his room, and
it was just as he was recovering his confidence that the blow did
at last fall.'</p>

<p>"'And how?' I asked eagerly.</p>

<p>"'In a most extraordinary fashion. A letter arrived for my
father yesterday evening, bearing the Fordingbridge post-mark. My
father read it, clapped both his hands to his head, and began
running round the room in little circles like a man who has been
driven out of his senses. When I at last drew him down on to the
sofa, his mouth and eyelids were all puckered on one side, and I
saw that he had a stroke. Dr. Fordham came over at once. We put
him to bed; but the paralysis has spread, he has shown no sign of
returning consciousness, and I think that we shall hardly find
him alive.'</p>

<p>"'You horrify me, Trevor!' I cried. 'What then could have been
in this letter to cause so dreadful a result?'</p>

<p>"'Nothing. There lies the inexplicable part of it. The message
was absurd and trivial. Ah, my God, it is as I feared!'</p>

<p>"As he spoke we came round the curve of the avenue, and saw in
the fading light that every blind in the house had been drawn
down. As we dashed up to the door, my friend's face convulsed
with grief, a gentleman in black emerged from it.</p>

<p>"'When did it happen, doctor?' asked Trevor.</p>

<p>"'Almost immediately after you left.'</p>

<p>"'Did he recover consciousness?'</p>

<p>"'For an instant before the end.'</p>

<p>"'Any message for me.'</p>

<p>"'Only that the papers were in the back drawer of the Japanese
cabinet.'</p>

<p>"My friend ascended with the doctor to the chamber of death,
while I remained in the study, turning the whole matter over and
over in my head, and feeling as sombre as ever I had done in my
life. What was the past of this Trevor, pugilist, traveler, and
gold-digger, and how had he placed himself in the power of this
acid-faced seaman? Why, too, should he faint at an allusion to
the half-effaced initials upon his arm, and die of fright when he
had a letter from Fordingham? Then I remembered that Fordingham
was in Hampshire, and that this Mr. Beddoes, whom the seaman had
gone to visit and presumably to blackmail, had also been
mentioned as living in Hampshire. The letter, then, might either
come from Hudson, the seaman, saying that he had betrayed the
guilty secret which appeared to exist, or it might come from
Beddoes, warning an old confederate that such a betrayal was
imminent. So far it seemed clear enough. But then how could this
letter be trivial and grotesque, as describe by the son? He must
have misread it. If so, it must have been one of those ingenious
secret codes which mean one thing while they seem to mean
another. I must see this letter. If there were a hidden meaning
in it, I was confident that I could pluck it forth. For an hour I
sat pondering over it in the gloom, until at last a weeping maid
brought in a lamp, and close at her heels came my friend Trevor,
pale but composed, with these very papers which lie upon my knee
held in his grasp. He sat down opposite to me, drew the lamp to
the edge of the table, and handed me a short note scribbled, as
you see, upon a single sheet of gray paper. "The supply of game
for London is going steadily up,' it ran. 'Head-keeper Hudson, we
believe, has been now told to receive all orders for fly-paper
and for preservation of you hen-pheasant's life.'</p>

<p>"I dare say my face looked as bewildered as your did just now
when first I read this message. Then I reread it very carefully.
It was evidently as I had thought, and some secret meaning must
lie buried in this strange combination of words. Or could it be
that there was a prearranged significance to such phrases as
'fly-paper' and hen-pheasant'? Such a meaning would be arbitrary
and could not be deduced in any way. And yet I was loath to
believe that this was the case, and the presence of the word
Hudson seemed to show that the subject of the message was as I
had guessed, and that it was from Beddoes rather than the sailor.
I tried it backwards, but the combination 'life pheasant's hen'
was not encouraging. Then I tried alternate words, but neither
'the of for' nor 'supply game London' promised to throw any light
upon it.</p>

<p>"And then in an instant the key of the riddle was in my hands,
and I saw that every third word, beginning with the first, would
give a message which might well drive old Trevor to despair.</p>

<p>"It was short and terse, the warning, as I now read it to my
companion:</p>

<p>"'The game is up. Hudson has told all. Fly for your life.'</p>

<p>"Victor Trevor sank his face into his shaking hands, 'It must
be that, I suppose,' said he. "This is worse than death, for it
means disgrace as well. But what is the meaning of these
"head-keepers" and "hen-pheasants"?</p>

<p>"'It means nothing to the message, but it might mean a good
deal to us if we had no other means of discovering the sender.
You see that he has begun by writing "The...game...is," and so
on. Afterwards he had, to fulfill the prearranged cipher, to fill
in any two words in each space. He would naturally use the first
words which came to his mind, and if there were so many which
referred to sport among them, you may be tolerably sure that he
is either an ardent shot or interested in breeding. Do you know
anything of this Beddoes?'</p>

<p>"'Why, now that you mention it,' said he, 'I remember that my
poor father used to have an invitation from him to shoot over his
preserves every autumn.'</p>

<p>"'Then it is undoubtedly from him that the note comes,' said
I. 'It only remains for us to find out what this secret was which
the sailor Hudson seems to have held over the heads of these two
wealthy and respected men.'</p>

<p>"'Alas, Holmes, I fear that it is one of sin and shame!' cried
my friend. 'But from you I shall have no secrets. Here is the
statement which was drawn up by my father when he knew that the
danger from Hudson had become imminent. I found it in the
Japanese cabinet, as he told the doctor. Take it and read it to
me, for I have neither the strength nor the courage to do it
myself.'</p>

<p>"These are the very papers, Watson, which he handed to me, and
I will read them to you, as I read them in the old study that
night to him. They are endorsed outside, as you see, 'Some
particulars of the voyage of the bark Gloria Scott, from her
leaving Falmouth on the 8th October, 1855, to her destruction in
N. Lat. 15 degrees 20', W. Long. 25 degrees 14' on Nov. 6th.' It
is in the form of a letter, and runs in this way:</p>

<p>"'My dear, dear son, now that approaching disgrace begins to
darken the closing years of my life, I can write with all truth
and honesty that it is not the terror of the law, it is not the
loss of my position in the county, nor is it my fall in the eyes
of all who have known me, which cuts me to the heart; but it is
the thought that you should come to blush for me--you who love me
and who have seldom, I hope, had reason to do other than respect
me. But if the blow falls which is forever hanging over me, then
I should wish you to read this, that you may know straight from
me how far I have been to blame. On the other hand, if all should
go well (which may kind God Almighty grant!), then if by any
chance this paper should be still undestroyed and should fall
into your hands, I conjure you, by all you hold sacred, by the
memory of your dear mother, and by the love which had been
between us, to hurl it into the fire and to never give one
thought to it again.</p>

<p>"'If then your eye goes onto read this line, I know that I
shall already have been exposed and dragged from my home, or as
is more likely, for you know that my heart is weak, by lying with
my tongue sealed forever in death. In either case the time for
suppression is past, and every word which I tell you is the naked
truth, and this I swear as I hope for mercy.</p>

<p>"'My name, dear lad, is not Trevor. I was James Armitage in my
younger days, and you can understand now the shock that it was to
me a few weeks ago when your college friend addressed me in words
which seemed to imply that he had surprised my secret. As
Armitage it was that I entered a London banking-house, and as
Armitage I was convicted of breaking my country's laws, and was
sentenced to transportation. Do not think very harshly of me,
laddie. It was a debt of honor, so called, which I had to pay,
and I used money which was not my own to do it, in the certainty
that I could replace it before there could be any possibility of
its being missed. But the most dreadful ill-luck pursued me. The
money which I had reckoned upon never came to hand, and a
premature examination of accounts exposed my deficit. The case
might have been dealt leniently with, but the laws were more
harshly administered thirty years ago than now, and on my
twenty-third birthday I found myself chained as a felon with
thirty-seven other convicts in 'tween-decks of the bark Gloria
Scott, bound for Australia.</p>

<p>"'It was the year '55 when the Crimean war was at its height,
and the old convict sips had been largely used as transports in
the Black Sea. The government was compelled, therefore, to use
smaller and less suitable vessels for sending out their
prisoners. The Gloria Scott had been in the Chinese tea-trade,
but she was an old-fashioned, heavy-bowed, broad-beamed craft,
and the new clippers had cut her out. She was a five-hundred-ton
boat; and besides her thirty-eight jail-birds, she carried
twenty-six of a crew, eighteen soldiers, a captain, three mates,
a doctor, a chaplain, and four warders. Nearly a hundred souls
were in her, all told, when we set said from Falmouth.</p>

<p>"'The partitions between the cells of the convicts, instead of
being of thick oak, as is usual in convict-ships, were quite thin
and frail. The man next to me, upon the aft side, was one whom I
had particularly noticed when we were led down the quay. He was a
young man with a clear, hairless face, a long, thin nose, and
rather nut-cracker jaws. He carried his head very jauntily in the
air, had a swaggering style of walking, and was, above all else,
remarkable for his extraordinary height. I don't think any of our
heads would have come up to his shoulder, and I am sure that he
could not have measured less than six and a half feet. It was
strange among so many sad and weary faces to see one which was
full of energy and resolution. The sight of it was to me like a
fire in a snow-storm. I was glad, then, to find that he was my
neighbor, and gladder still when, in the dead of the night, I
heard a whisper close to my ear, and found that he had managed to
cut an opening in the board which separated us.</p>

<p>"'"Hullo, chummy!" said he, "what's your name, and what are
you here for?"</p>

<p>"'I answered him, and asked in turn who I was talking
with.</p>

<p>"'"I'm Jack Prendergast," said he, "and by God! You'll learn
to bless my name before you've done with me."</p>

<p>"'I remembered hearing of his case, for it was one which had
made an immense sensation throughout the country some time before
my own arrest. He was a man of good family and of great ability,
but on incurably vicious habits, who had be an ingenious system
of fraud obtained huge sums of money from the leading London
merchants.</p>

<p>"'"Ha, ha! You remember my case!" said he proudly.</p>

<p>"'"Very well, indeed."</p>

<p>"'"Then maybe you remember something queer about it?"</p>

<p>"'"What was that, then?"</p>

<p>"'"I'd had nearly a quarter of a million, hadn't I?"</p>

<p>"'"So it was said."</p>

<p>"'"But none was recovered, eh?"</p>

<p>"'"No."</p>

<p>"'"Well, where d'ye suppose the balance is?" he asked.</p>

<p>"'"I have no idea," said I.</p>

<p>"'"Right between my finger and thumb," he cried. "By God! I've
go more pounds to my name than you've hairs on your head. And if
you've money, my son, and know how to handle it and spread it,
you can do anything. Now, you don't think it likely that a man
who could do anything is going to wear his breeches out sitting
in the stinking hold of a rat-gutted, beetle-ridden, mouldy old
coffin of a Chin China coaster. No, sir, such a man will look
after himself and will look after his chums. You may lay to that!
You hold on to him, and you may kiss the book that he'll haul you
through."</p>

<p>"'That was his style of talk, and at first I thought it meant
nothing; but after a while, when he had tested me and sworn me in
with all possible solemnity, he let me understand that there
really was a plot to gain command of the vessel. A dozen of the
prisoners had hatched it before they came aboard, Prendergast was
the leader, and his money was the motive power.</p>

<p>"'"I'd a partner," said he, "a rare good man, as true as a
stock to a barrel. He's got the dibbs, he has, and where do you
think he is at this moment? Why, he's the chaplain of this
ship--the chaplain, no less! He came aboard with a black coat,
and his papers right, and money enough in his box to buy the
thing right up from keel to main-truck. The crew are his, body
and soul. He could buy 'em at so much a gross with a cash
discount, and he did it before ever they signed on. He's got two
of the warders and Mereer, the second mate, and he'd get the
captain himself, if he thought him worth it."</p>

<p>"'"What are we to do, then?" I asked.</p>

<p>"'"What do you think?" said he. "We'll make the coats of some
of these soldiers redder than ever the tailor did."</p>

<p>"'"But they are armed," said I.</p>

<p>"'"And so shall we be, my boy. There's a brace of pistols for
every mother's son of us, and if we can't carry this ship, with
the crew at our back, it's time we were all sent to a young
misses' boarding-school. You speak to your mate upon the left
to-night, and see if he is to be trusted."</p>

<p>"'I did so, and found my other neighbor to be a young fellow
in much the same position as myself, whose crime had been
forgery. His name was Evans, but he afterwards changed it, like
myself, and his is now a rich and prosperous man in the south of
England. He was ready enough to join the conspiracy, as the only
means of saving ourselves, and before we had crossed the Bay
there were only two of the prisoners who were not in the secret.
One of these was of weak mind, and we did not dare to trust him,
and the other was suffering from jaundice, and could not be of
any use to us.</p>

<p>"'From the beginning there was really nothing to prevent us
from taking possession of the ship. The crew were a set of
ruffians, specially picked for the job. The sham chaplain came
into our cells to exhort us, carrying a black bag, supposed to be
full of tracts, and so often did he come that by the third day we
had each stowed away at the foot of our beds a file, a brace of
pistols, a pound of powder, and twenty slugs. Two of the warders
were agents of Prendergast, and the second mate was his
right-hand man. The captain, the two mates, two warders
Lieutenant Martin, his eighteen soldiers, and the doctor were all
that we had against us. Yet, safe as it was, we determined to
neglect no precaution, and to make our attack suddenly by night.
It came, however, more quickly than we expected, and in this
way.</p>

<p>"'One evening, about the third week after our start, the
doctor had come down to see one of the prisoners who was ill, and
putting his hand down on the bottom of his bunk he felt the
outline of the pistols. If he had been silent he might have blown
the whole thing, but he was a nervous little chap, so he gave a
cry of surprise and turned so pale that the man knew what was up
in an instant and seized him. He was gagged before he could give
the alarm, and tied down upon the bed. He had unlocked the door
that led to the deck, and we were through it in a rush. The two
sentries were shot down, and so was a corporal who came running
to see what was the matter. There were two more soldiers at the
door of the state-room, and their muskets seemed not to be
loaded, for they never fired upon us, and they were shot while
trying to fix their bayonets. Then we rushed on into the
captain's cabin, but as we pushed open the door there was an
explosion from within, and there he lay wit his brains smeared
over the chart of the Atlantic which was pinned upon the table,
while the chaplain stood with a smoking pistol in his hand at his
elbow. The two mates had both been seized by the crew, and the
whole business seemed to be settled.</p>

<p>"'The state-room was next the cabin, and we flocked in there
and flopped down on the settees, all speaking together, for we
were just mad with the feeling that we were free once more. There
were lockers all round, and Wilson, the sham chaplain, knocked
one of them in, and pulled out a dozen of brown sherry. We
cracked off the necks of the bottles, poured the stuff out into
tumblers, and were just tossing them off, when in an instant
without warning there came the roar of muskets in our ears, and
the saloon was so full of smoke that we could not see across the
table. When it cleared again the place was a shambles. Wilson and
eight others were wriggling on the top of each other on the
floor, and the blood and the brown sherry on that table turn me
sick now when I think of it. We were so cowed by the sight that I
think we should have given the job up if had not been for
Prendergast. He bellowed like a bull and rushed for the door with
all that were left alive at his heels. Out we ran, and there on
the poop were the lieutenent and ten of his men. The swing
skylights above the saloon table had been a bit open, and they
had fired on us through the slit. We got on them before they
could load, and they stood to it like men; but we had the upper
hand of them, and in five minutes it was all over. My God! Was
there ever a slaughter-house like that ship! Predergast was like
a raging deveil, and he picked the soldiers up as if they had
been children and threw them overboard alive or dead. There was
one sergeant that was horribly wounded and yet kept on swimming
for a surprising time, until some one in mercy blew out his
brains. When the fighting was over there was no one left of our
enemies except just the warders the mates, and the doctor.</p>

<p>"'It was over them that the great quarrel arose. There were
many of us who were glad enough to win back our freedom, and yet
who had no wish to have murder on our souls. It was one thing to
knock the soldiers over with their muskets in their hands, and it
was another to stand by while men were being killed in cold
blood. Eight of us, five convicts and three sailors, said that we
would not see it done. But there was no moving Predergast and
those who were with him. Our only chance of safety lay in making
a clean job of it, said he, and he would not leave a tongue with
power to wag in a witness-box. It nearly came to our sharing the
fate of the prisoners, but at last he said that if we wished we
might take a boat and go. We jumped at the offer, for we were
already sick of these blookthirsty doings, and we saw that there
would be worse before it was done. We were given a suit of sailor
togs each, a barrel of water, two casks, one of junk and one of
biscuits, and a compass. Prendergast threw us over a chart, told
us that we were shipwrecked mariners whose ship had foundered in
Lat. 15 degrees and Long 25 degrees west, and then cut the
painter and let us go.</p>

<p>"'And now I come to the most surprising part of my story, my
dear son. The seamen had hauled the fore-yard aback during the
rising, but now as we left them they brought it square again, and
as there was a light wind from the north and east the bark began
to draw slowly away from us. Our boat lay, rising and falling,
upon the long, smooth rollers, and Evans and I, who were the most
educated of the party, were sitting in the sheets working out our
position and planning what coast we should make for. It was a
nice question, for the Cape de Verds were about five hundred
miles to the north of us, and the African coast about seven
hundred to the east. On the whole, as the wind was coming round
to the north, we thought that Sierra Leone might be best, and
turned our head in that direction, the bark being at that time
nearly hull down on our starboard quarter. Suddenly as we looked
at her we saw a dense black cloud of smoke shoot up from her,
which hung like a monstrous tree upon the sky line. A few seconds
later a roar like thunder burst upon our ears, and as the smoke
thinned away there was no sign left of the Gloria Scott. In an
instant we swept the boat's head round again and pulled with all
our strength for the place where the haze still trailing over the
water marked the scene of this catastrophe.</p>

<p>"'It was a long hour before we reached it, and at first we
feared that we had come too late to save any one. A splintered
boat and a number of crates and fragments of spars rising and
falling on the waves showed us where the vessel had foundered;
but there was no sign o life, and we had turned away in despair
when we heard a cry for help, and saw at some distance a piece of
wreckage with a man lying stretched across it. When we pulled him
aboard the boat he proved to be a young seaman of the name of
Hudson, who was so burned and exhausted that he could give us no
account of what had happened until the following morning.</p>

<p>"'It seemed that after we had left, Prendergast and his gang
had proceeded to put to death the five remaining prisoners. The
two warders had been shot and thrown overboard, and so also had
the third mate. Prendergast then descended into the 'tween-decks
and with his own hands cut the throat of the unfortunate surgeon.
There only remained the first mate, who was a bold and active
man. When he saw the convict approaching him with the bloody
knife in his hand he kicked off his bonds, which he had somehow
contrived to loosen, and rushing down the deck he plunged into
the after-hold. A dozen convicts, who descended wit their pistols
in search of him, found him with a match-box in his hand seated
beside an open powder-barrel, which was one of a hundred carried
on board, and swearing that he would blow all hands up if he were
in any way molested. An instant later the explosion occurred,
though Hudson thought it was caused by the misdirected bullet of
one of the convicts rather than the mate's match. Be the cause
what I may, it was the end of the Gloria Scott and of the rabble
who held command of her.</p>

<p>"'Such, in a few words, my dear boy, is the history of this
terrible business in which I was involved. Next day we were
picked up by the brig Hotspur, bound for Australia, whose captain
found no difficulty in believing that we were the survivors of a
passenger ship which had foundered. The transport ship Gloria
Scott was set down by the Admiralty as being lost at sea, and no
word has ever leaked out as to her true fate. After an excellent
voyage the Hotspur landed us at Sydney, where Evans and I changed
our names and made our way to the diggings, where, among the
crowds who were gathered from all nations, we had no difficulty
in losing our former identities. The rest I need not relate. We
prospered, we traveled, we came back as rich colonials to
England, and we bought country estates. For more than twenty
years we have led peaceful and useful lives, and we hoped that
our past was forever buried. Imagine, then, my feelings when in
the seaman who came to us I recognized instantly the man who had
been picked off the wreck. He had tracked us down somehow, and
had set himself to live upon our fears. You will understand now
how it was that I strove to keep the peace with him, and you will
in some measure sympathize with me in the fears which fill me,
now that he has gone from me to his other victim with threats
upon his tongue.'</p>

<p>"Underneath is written in a hand so shaky as to be hardly
legible, 'Beddoes writes in cipher to say H. Has told all. Sweet
Lord, have mercy on our souls!'</p>

<p>"That was the narrative which I read that night to young
Trevor, and I think, Watson, that under the circumstances it was
a dramatic one. The good fellow was heart-broken at it, and went
out to the Terai tea planting, where I hear that he is doing
well. As to the sailor and Beddoes, neither of them was ever
heard of again after that day on which the letter of warning was
written. They both disappeared utterly and completely. No
complaint had been lodged with he police, so that Beddoes had
mistaken a threat for a deed. Hudson had been seen lurking about,
and it was believed by the police that he had done away with
Beddoes and had fled. For myself I believe that the truth was
exactly the opposite. I think that it is most probable that
Beddoes, pushed to desperation and believing himself to have been
already betrayed, had revenged himself upon Hudson, and had fled
from the country with as much money as he could lay his hands on.
Those are the facts of the case, Doctor, and if they are of any
use to your collection, I am sure that they are very heartily at
your service."</p>

<hr>
<h3 align="Center">Adventure V</h3>

<h3 align="Center">The Musgrave Ritual</h3>

<br>
<p>An anomaly which often struck me in the character of my friend
Sherlock Holmes was that, although in his methods of thought he
was the neatest and most methodical of mankind, and although also
he affected a certain quiet primness of dress, he was none the
less in his personal habits one of the most untidy men that ever
drove a fellow-lodger to distraction. Not that I am in the least
conventional in that respect myself. The rough-and-tumble work in
Afghanistan, coming on the top of a natural Bohemianism of
disposition, has made me rather more lax than befits a medical
man who keeps his cigars in the coal-scuttle, his tobacco in the
toe end of a Persian slipper, and his unanswered correspondence
transfixed by a jack-knife into the very centre of his wooden
mantelpiece, then I begin to give myself virtuous airs. I have
always held, too, that pistol practice should be distinctly an
open-air pastime; and when Holmes, in one of his queer humors,
would sit in an arm-chair with his hair-trigger and a hundred
Boxer cartridges, and proceed to adorn the opposite wall with a
patriotic V. R. Done in bullet-pocks, I felt strongly that
neither the atmosphere nor the appearance of our room was
improved by it.</p>

<p>Our chambers were always full of chemicals and of criminal
relics which had a way of wandering into unlikely positions, and
of turning up in the butter-dish or in even less desirable
places. But his papers were my great crux. He had a horror of
destroying documents, especially those which were connected with
his past cases, and yet it was only once in every year or two
that he would muster energy to docket and arrange them; for, as I
have mentioned somewhere in these incoherent memoirs, the
outbursts of passionate energy when he performed the remarkable
feats with which his name is associated were followed by
reactions of lethargy during which he would lie about with his
violin and his books, hardly moving save fro the sofa to the
table. Thus month after month his papers accumulated, until every
corner of the room was stacked with bundles of manuscript which
were on no account to be burned, and which could not be put away
save by their owner. One winter's night, as we sat together by
the fire, I ventured to suggest to him that, as he had finished
pasting extracts into his common-place book, he might employ the
next two hours in making our room a little more habitable. He
could not deny the justice of my request, so with a rather rueful
face went off to his bedroom, from which he returned presently
pulling a large tin box behind him. This he placed in the middle
of the floor and, squatting down upon a stool in front of it, he
threw back the lid. I could see that it was already a third full
of bundles of paper tied up with red tape into separate
packages.</p>

<p>"There are cases enough here, Watson," said he, looking at me
with mischievous eyes. "I think that if you knew all that I had
in this box you would ask me to pull some out instead of putting
others in."</p>

<p>"These are the records of your early work, then?" I asked. "I
have often wished that I had notes of those cases."</p>

<p>"Yes, my boy, these were all done prematurely before my
biographer had come to glorify me." He lifted bundle after bundle
in a tender, caressing sort of way. "They are not all successes,
Watson," said he. "But there are some pretty little problems
among them. Here's the record of the Tarleton murders, and the
case of Vamberry, the wine merchant, and the adventure of the old
Russian woman, and the singular affair of the aluminium crutch,
as well as a full account of Ricoletti of the club-foot, and his
abominable wife. And here--ah, now, this really is something a
little recherch&amp;eacute;."</p>

<p>He dived his arm down to the bottom of the chest, and brought
up a small wooden box with a sliding lid, such as children's toys
are kept in. From within he produced a crumpled piece of paper,
and old-fashioned brass key, a peg of wood with a ball of string
attached to it, and three rusty old disks of metal.</p>

<p>"Well, my boy, what do you make of this lot?" he asked,
smiling at my expression.</p>

<p>"It is a curious collection."</p>

<p>"Very curious, and the story that hangs round it will strike
you as being more curious still."</p>

<p>"These relics have a history then?"</p>

<p>"So much so that they are history."</p>

<p>"What do you mean by that?"</p>

<p>Sherlock Holmes picked them up one by one, and laid them along
the edge of the table. Then re reseated himself in his chair and
looked them over with a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes.</p>

<p>"These," said he, "are all that I have left to remind me of
the adventure of the Musgrave Ritual."</p>

<p>I had heard him mention the case more than once, though I had
never been able to gather the details. "I should be so glad,"
said I, "if you would give me an account of it."</p>

<p>"And leave the litter as it is?" he cried, mischievously.
"Your tidiness won't bear much strain after all, Watson. But I
should be glad that you should add this case to your annals, for
there are points in it which make it quite unique in the criminal
records of this or, I believe, of any other country. A collection
of my trifling achievements would certainly be incomplete which
contained no account of this very singular business.</p>

<p>"You may remember how the affair of the Gloria Scott, and my
conversation with the unhappy man whose fate I told you of, first
turned my attention in the direction of the profession which has
become my life's work. You see me now when my name has become
known far and wide, and when I am generally recognized both by
the public and by the official force as being a final court of
appeal in doubtful cases. Even when you knew me first, at the
time of the affair which you have commemorated in 'A Study in
Scarlet,' I had already established a considerable, though not a
very lucrative, connection. You can hardly realize, then, how
difficult I found it at first, and how long I had to wait before
I succeeded in making any headway.</p>

<p>"When I first came up to London I had rooms in Montague
Street, just round the corner from the British Museum, and there
I waited, filling in my too abundant leisure time by studying all
those branches of science which might make me more efficient. Now
and again cases came in my way, principally through the
introduction of old fellow-students, for during my last years at
the University there was a good deal of talk there about myself
and my methods. The third of these cases was that of the Musgrave
Ritual, and it is to the interest which was aroused by that
singular chain of events, and the large issues which proved to be
at stake, that I trace my first stride towards to position which
I now hold.</p>

<p>"Reginald Musgrave had been in the same college as myself, and
I had some slight acquaintance with him. He was not generally
popular among the undergraduates, though it always seemed to me
that what was set down as pride was really an attempt to cover
extreme natural diffidence. In appearance he was a man of
exceedingly aristocratic type, thin, high-nosed, and large-eyed,
with languid and yet courtly manners. He was indeed a scion of
one of the very oldest families in the kingdom, though his branch
was a cadet one which had separated from the northern Musgraves
some time in the sixteenth century, and had established itself in
western Sussex, where the Manor House of Hurlstone is perhaps the
oldest inhabited building in the county. Something of his birth
place seemed to cling to the man, and I never looked at his pale,
keen face or the poise of his head without associating him with
gray archways and mullioned windows and all the venerable
wreckage of a feudal keep. Once or twice we drifted into talk,
and I can remember that more than once he expressed a keen
interest in my methods of observation and inference.</p>

<p>"For four years I had seen nothing of him until one morning he
walked into my room in Montague Street. He had changed little,
was dressed like a young man of fashion--he was always a bit of a
dandy--and preserved the same quiet, suave manner which had
formerly distinguished him.</p>

<p>"'How has all gone wit you Musgrave?" I asked, after we had
cordially shaken hands.</p>

<p>"'You probably heard of my poor father's death,' said he; 'he
was carried off about two years ago. Since then I have of course
had the Hurlstone estates to manage, and as I am member for my
district as well, my life has been a busy one. But I understand,
Holmes, that you are turning to practical ends those powers with
which you used to amaze us?"</p>

<p>"'Yes,' said I, 'I have taken to living by my wits.'</p>

<p>"'I am delighted to hear it, for your advice at present would
be exceedingly valuable to me. We have had some very strange
doings at Hurlstone, and the police have been able to throw no
light upon the matter. It is really the most extraordinary and
inexplicable business.'</p>

<p>"You can imagine with what eagerness I listened to him,
Watson, for the very chance for which I had been panting during
all those months of inaction seemed to have come within my reach.
In my inmost heart I believed that I could succeed where others
failed, and now I had the opportunity to test myself.</p>

<p>"'Pray, let me have the details,' I cried.</p>

<p>"Reginald Musgrave sat down opposite to me, and lit the
cigarette which I had pushed towards him.</p>

<p>"'You must know,' said he, 'that though I am a bachelor, I
have to keep up a considerable staff of servants at Hurlstone,
for it is a rambling old place, and takes a good deal of looking
after. I preserve, too, and in the pheasant months I usually have
a house-party, so that it would not do to be short-handed.
Altogether there are eight maids, the cook, the butler, two
footmen, and a boy. The garden and the stables of course have a
separate staff.</p>

<p>"'Of these servants the one who had been longest in our
service was Brunton the butler. He was a young school-master out
of place when he was first taken up by my father, but he was a
man of great energy and character, and he soon became quite
invaluable in the household. He was a well-grown, handsome man,
with a splendid forehead, and though he has been with us for
twenty years he cannot be more than forty now. With his personal
advantages and his extraordinary gifts--for he can speak several
languages and play nearly every musical instrument--it is
wonderful that he should have been satisfied so long in such a
position, but I suppose that he was comfortable, and lacked
energy to make any change. The butler of Hurlstone is always a
thing that is remembered by all who visit us.</p>

<p>"'But this paragon has one fault. He is a bit of a Don Juan,
and you can imagine that for a man like him it is not a very
difficult part to play in a quiet country district. When he was
married it was all right, but since he has been a widower we have
had no end of trouble with him. A few months ago we were in hopes
that he was about to settle down again for he became engaged to
Rachel Howells, our second house-maid; but he has thrown her over
since then and taken up with Janet Tregellis, the daughter of the
head game-keeper. Rachel--who is a very good girl, but of an
excitable Welsh temperament--had a sharp touch of brain-fever,
and goes about the house now--or did until yesterday--like a
black-eyed shadow of her former self. That was our first drama at
Hurlstone; but a second one came to drive it from our minds, and
it was prefaced by the disgrace and dismissal of butler
Brunton.</p>

<p>"'This was how it came about. I have said that the man was
intelligent, and this very intelligence has caused his ruin, for
it seems to have led to an insatiable curiosity about things
which did not in the least concern him. I had no idea of the
lengths to which this would carry him, until the merest accident
opened my eyes to it.</p>

<p>"'I have said that the house is a rambling one. One day last
week--on Thursday night, to be more exact--I found that I could
not sleep, having foolishly taken a cup of strong caf&amp;eacute;
noir after my dinner. After struggling against it until two in
the morning, I felt that it was quite hopeless, so I rose and lit
the candle with the intention of continuing a novel which I was
reading. The book, however, had been left in the billiard-room,
so I pulled on my dressing-gown and started off to get it.</p>

<p>"'In order to reach the billiard-room I had to descend a
flight of stairs and then to cross the head of a passage which
led to the library and the gun-room. You can imagine my surprise
when, as I looked down this corridor, I saw a glimmer of light
coming from the open door of the library. I had myself
extinguished the lamp and closed the door before coming to bed.
Naturally my first thought was of burglars. The corridors at
Hurlstone have their walls largely decorated with trophies of old
weapons. From one of these I picked a battle-axe, and then,
leaving my candle behind me, I crept on tiptoe down the passage
and peeped in at the open door.</p>

<p>"'Brunton, the butler, was in the library. He was sitting,
fully dressed, in an easy-chair, with a slip of paper which
looked lake a map upon his knee, and his forehead sunk forward
upon his hand in deep thought. I stood dumb with astonishment,
watching him from the darkness. A small taper on the edge of the
table shed a feeble light which sufficed to show me that he was
fully dressed. Suddenly, as I looked, he rose from his chair, and
walking over to a bureau at the side, he unlocked it and drew out
one of the drawers. From this he took a paper, and returning to
his seat he flattened it out beside the taper on the edge of the
table, and began to study it with minute attention. My
indignation at this calm examination of our family documents
overcame me so far that I took a step forward, and Brunton,
looking up, saw me standing in the doorway. He sprang to his
feet, his face turned livid with fear, and he thrust into his
breast the chart-like paper which he had been originally
studying.</p>

<p>"'"So!" said I. "This is how you repay the trust which we have
reposed in you. You will leave my service to-morrow."</p>

<p>"'He bowed with the look of a man who is utterly crushed, and
slunk past me without a word. The taper was still on the table,
and by its light I glanced to see what the paper was which
Brunton had taken from the bureau. To my surprise it was nothing
of any importance at all, but simply a copy of the questions and
answers in the singular old observance called the Musgrave
Ritual. It is a sort of ceremony peculiar to our family, which
each Musgrave for centuries past has gone through on his coming
of age--a thing of private interest, and perhaps of some little
importance to the archaeologist, like our own blazonings and
charges, but of no practical use whatever.'</p>

<p>"'We had better come back to the paper afterwards,' said
I.</p>

<p>"'If you think it really necessary,' he answered, with some
hesitation. 'To continue my statement, however: I relocked the
bureau, using the key which Brunton had left, and I had turned to
go when I was surprised to find that the butler had returned, and
was standing before me.</p>

<p>"'"Mr. Musgrave, sir," he cried, in a voice which was hoarse
with emotion, "I can't bear disgrace, sir. I've always been proud
above my station in life, and disgrace would kill me. My blood
will be on your head, sir--it will, indeed--if you drive me to
despair. If you cannot keep me after what has passed, then for
God's sake let me give you notice and leave in a month, as if of
my own free will. I could stand that, Mr. Musgrave, but not to be
cast out before all the folk that I know so well."</p>

<p>"'"You don't deserve much consideration, Brunton," I answered.
"Your conduct has been most infamous. However, as you have been a
long time in the family, I have no wish to bring public disgrace
upon you. A month, however is too long. Take yourself away in a
week, and give what reason you like for going."</p>

<p>"'"Only a week, sir?" he cried, in a despairing voice. "A
fortnight--say at least a fortnight!"</p>

<p>"'"A week," I repeated, "and you may consider yourself to have
been very leniently dealt with." "'He crept away, his face sunk
upon his breast, like a broken man, while I put out the light and
returned to my room.</p>

<p>""For two days after this Brunton was most assiduous in his
attention to his duties. I made no allusion to what had passed,
and waited with some curiosity to see how he would cover his
disgrace. On the third morning, however he did not appear, as was
his custom, after breakfast to receive my instructions for the
day. As I left the dining-room I happened to meet Rachel Howells,
the maid. I have told you that she had only recently recovered
from an illness, and was looking so wretchedly pale and wan that
I remonstrated with her for being at work.</p>

<p>"'"You should be in bed," I said. "Come back to your duties
when you are stronger."</p>

<p>"'She looked at me with so strange an expression that I began
to suspect that her brain was affected.</p>

<p>"'"I am strong enough, Mr. Musgrave," said she.</p>

<p>"'"We will see what the doctor says," I answered. "You must
stop work now, and when you go downstairs just say that I wish to
see Brunton."</p>

<p>"'"The butler is gone," said she.</p>

<p>"'"Gone! Gone where?"</p>

<p>"'"He is gone. No one has seen him. He is not in his room. Oh,
yes, he is gone, he is gone!" She fell back against the wall with
shriek after shriek of laughter, while I, horrified at this
sudden hysterical attack, rushed to the bell to summon help. The
girl was taken to her room, still screaming and sobbing, while I
made inquiries about Brunton. There was no doubt about it that he
had disappeared. His bed had not been slept in, he had been seen
by no one since he had retired to his room the night before, and
yet it was difficult to see how he could have left the house, as
both windows and doors were found to be fastened in the morning.
His clothes, his watch, and even his money were in his room, but
the black suit which he usually wore was missing. His slippers,
too, were gone, but his boots were left behind. Where then could
butler Brunton have gone in the night, and what could have become
of him now?</p>

<p>"'Of course we searched the house from cellar to garret, but
there was no trace of him. It is, as I have said, a labyrinth of
an old house, especially the original wing, which is now
practically uninhabited; but we ransacked every room and cellar
without discovering the least sign of the missing man. It was
incredible to me that he could have gone away leaving all his
property behind him, and yet where could he be? I called in the
local police, but without success. Rain had fallen on the night
before and we examined the lawn and the paths all round the
house, but in vain. Matters were in this state, when a new
development quite drew our attention away from the original
mystery.</p>

<p>"'For two days Rachel Howells had been so ill, sometimes
delirious, sometimes hysterical, that a nurse had been employed
to sit up with her at night. On the third night after Brunton's
disappearance, the nurse, finding her patient sleeping nicely,
had dropped into a nap in the arm-chair, when shoe woke in the
early morning to find the bed empty, the window open, and no
signs of the invalid. I was instantly aroused, and, with the two
footmen, started off at once in search of the missing girl. It
was not difficult to tell the direction which she had taken, for,
starting from under her window, we could follow her footmarks
easily across the lawn to the edge of the mere, where they
vanished close to the gravel path which leads out of the grounds.
The lake there is eight feet deep, and you can imagine our
feelings when we saw that the trail of the poor demented girl
came to an end at the edge of it.</p>

<p>"'Of course, we had the drags at once, and set to work to
recover the remains, but no trace of the body could we find. On
the other hand, we brought to the surface an object of a most
unexpected kind. It was a linen bag which contained within it a
mass of old rusted and discolored metal and several dull-colored
pieces of pebble or glass. This strange find was all that we
could get from the mere, and, although we made every possible
search and inquiry yesterday, we know nothing of the fate either
of Rachel Howells or of Richard Brunton. The county police are at
their wits' end, and I have come up to you as a last
resource.'</p>

<p>"You can imagine, Watson, with what eagerness I listened to
this extraordinary sequence of events, and endeavored to piece
them together, and to devise some common thread upon which they
might all hang. The butler was gone. The maid was gone. The maid
had loved the butler, but had afterwards had cause to hate him.
She was of Welsh blood, fiery and passionate. She had been
terribly excited immediately after his disappearance. She had
flung into the lake a bag containing some curious contents. These
were all factors which had to be taken into consideration, and
yet none of them got quite to the heart of the matter. What was
the starting-point of this chain of events? There lay the end of
this tangled line.</p>

<p>"'I must see that paper, Musgrave,' said I, 'which this butler
of your thought it worth his while to consult, even at the risk
of the loss of his place.'</p>

<p>"'It is rather an absurd business, this ritual of ours,' he
answered. 'But it has at least the saving grace of antiquity to
excuse it. I have a copy of the questions and answers here if you
care to run your eye over them.'</p>

<p>"He handed me the very paper which I have here, Watson, and
this is the strange catechism to which each Musgrave had to
submit when he came to man's estate. I will read you the
questions and answers as they stand.</p>

<p>"'Whose was it?'</p>

<p>"'His who is gone.'</p>

<p>"'Who shall have it?'</p>

<p>"'He who will come.'</p>

<p>"'Where was the sun?'</p>

<p>"'Over the oak.'</p>

<p>"'Where was the shadow?'</p>

<p>"'Under the elm.'</p>

<p>"How was it stepped?'</p>

<p>"'North by ten and by ten, east by five and by five, south by
two and by two, west by one and by one, and so under.'</p>

<p>"'What shall we give for it?'</p>

<p>"'All that is ours.'</p>

<p>"'Why should we give it?'</p>

<p>"'For the sake of the trust.'</p>

<p>"'The original has no date, but is in the spelling of the
middle of the seventeenth century,' remarked Musgrave. 'I am
afraid, however, that it can be of little help to you in solving
this mystery.'</p>

<p>"'At least,' said I, 'it gives us another mystery, and one
which is even more interesting than the first. It may be that the
solution of the one may prove to be the solution of the other.
You will excuse me, Musgrave, if I say that your butler appears
to me to have been a very clever man, and to have had a clearer
insight that ten generations of his masters.'</p>

<p>"'I hardly follow you,' said Musgrave. 'The paper seems to me
to be of no practical importance.'</p>

<p>"'But to me it seems immensely practical, and I fancy that
Brunton took the same view. He had probably seen it before that
night on which you caught him.'</p>

<p>"'It is very possible. We took no pains to hide it.'</p>

<p>"'He simply wished, I should imagine, to refresh his memory
upon that last occasion. He had, as I understand, some sort of
map or chart which he was comparing with the manuscript, and
which he thrust into his pocket when you appeared.'</p>

<p>"'That is true. But what could he have to do with this old
family custom of ours, and what does this rigmarole mean?'</p>

<p>"'I don't think that we should have much difficulty in
determining that,' said I; 'with your permission we will take the
first train down to Sussex, and go a little more deeply into the
matter upon the spot.'</p>

<p>"The same afternoon saw us both at Hurlstone. Possibly you
have seen pictures and read descriptions of the famous old
building, so I will confine my account of it to saying that it is
built in the shape of an L, the long arm being the more modern
portion, and the shorter the ancient nucleus, from which the
other had developed. Over the low, heavily-lintelled door, in the
centre of this old part, is chiseled the date, 1607, but experts
are agreed that the beams and stone-work are really much older
than this. The enormously thick walls and tiny windows of this
part had in the last century driven the family into building the
new wing, and the old one was used now as a store-house and a
cellar, when it was used at all. A splendid park with fine old
timber surrounds the house, and the lake, to which my client had
referred, lay close to the avenue, about tow hundred yards from
the building.</p>

<p>"I was already firmly convinced, Watson, that there were not
three separate mysteries here, but one only, and that if I could
read the Musgrave Ritual aright I should hold in my hand the clue
which would lead me to the truth concerning both the butler
Brunton and the maid Howells. To that then I turned all my
energies. Why should this servant be so anxious to master this
old formula? Evidently because he saw something in it which had
escaped all those generations of country squires, and from which
he expected some personal advantage. What was it then, and how
had it affected his fate?</p>

<p>"It was perfectly obvious to me, on reading the ritual, that
the measurements must refer to some spot to which the rest of the
document alluded, and that if we could find that spot, we should
be in a fair way towards finding what the secret was which the
old Musgraves had thought it necessary to embalm in so curious a
fashion. There were two guides given us to start with, an oak and
an elm. As to the oak there could be no question at all. Right in
front of the house, upon the left-hand side of the drive, there
stood a patriarch among oaks, one of the most magnificent trees
that I have ever seen.</p>

<p>"'That was there when you ritual was drawn up,' said I, as we
drove past it.</p>

<p>"'It was there at the Norman Conquest in all probability,' he
answered. 'It has a girth of twenty-three feet.'</p>

<p>"'Have you any old elms?' I asked.</p>

<p>"'There used to be a very old one over yonder but it was
struck by lightning ten years ago, and we cut down the
stump,'</p>

<p>"'You can see where it used to be?'</p>

<p>"'Oh, yes.'</p>

<p>"'There are no other elms?'</p>

<p>"'No old ones, but plenty of beeches.'</p>

<p>"'I should like to see where it grew.'</p>

<p>"We had driven up in a dogcart, and my client led me away at
once, without our entering the house, to the scar on the lawn
where the elm had stood. It was nearly midway between the oak and
the house. My investigation seemed to be progressing.</p>

<p>"'I suppose it is impossible to find out how high the elm
was?' I asked.</p>

<p>"'I can give you it at once. It was sixty-four feet.'</p>

<p>"'How do you come to know it?' I asked, in surprise.</p>

<p>"'When my old tutor used to give me an exercise in
trigonometry, it always took the shape of measuring heights. When
I was a lad I worked out every tree and building in the
estate.'</p>

<p>"This was an unexpected piece of luck. My data were coming
more quickly than I could have reasonably hoped.</p>

<p>"'Tell me,' I asked, 'did your butler ever ask you such a
question?'</p>

<p>"Reginald Musgrave looked at me in astonishment. 'Now that you
call it to my mind,' he answered, 'Brunton did ask me about the
height of the tree some months ago, in connection with some
little argument with the groom,'</p>

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

<p>"That must have been difficult, Holmes, when the elm was no
longer there."</p>

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

<p>"Of course the calculation now was a simple one. If a rod of
six feet threw a shadow of nine, a tree of sixty-four feet would
throw one of ninety-six, and the line of the one would of course
the line of the other. I measured out the distance, which brought
me almost to the wall of the house, and I thrust a peg into the
spot. You can imagine my exultation, Watson, when within two
inches of my peg I saw a conical depression in the ground. I knew
that it was the mark made by Brunton in his measurements, and
that I was still upon his trail.</p>

<p>"From this starting-point I proceeded to step, having first
taken the cardinal points by my pocket-compass. Ten steps with
each foot took me along parallel with the wall of the house, and
again I marked my spot with a peg. Then I carefully paced off
five to the east and two to the south. It brought me to the very
threshold of the old door. Two steps to the west meant now that I
was to go two paces down the stone-flagged passage, and this was
the place indicated by the Ritual.</p>

<p>"Never have I felt such a cold chill of disappointment,
Watson. For a moment is seemed to me that there must be some
radical mistake in my calculations. The setting sun shone full
upon the passage floor, and I could see that the old, foot-worn
gray stones with which it was paved were firmly cemented
together, and had certainly not been moved for many a long year.
Brunton had not been at work here. I tapped upon the floor, but
it sounded the same all over, and there was no sign of any crack
or crevice. But, Fortunately, Musgrave, who had begun to
appreciate the meaning of my proceedings, and who was now as
excited as myself, took out his manuscript to check my
calculation.</p>

<p>"'And under,' he cried. 'You have omitted the "and
under."'</p>

<p>"I had thought that it meant that we were to dig, but now, of
course, I saw at once that I was wrong. 'There is a cellar under
this then?' I cried.</p>

<p>"'Yes, and as old as the house. Down here, through this
door.'</p>

<p>"We went down a winding stone stair, and my companion,
striking a match, lit a large lantern which stood on a barrel in
the corner. In an instant it was obvious that we had at last come
upon the true place, and that we had not been the only people to
visit the spot recently.</p>

<p>"It had been used for the storage of wood, but the billets,
which had evidently been littered over the floor, were now piled
at the sides, so as to leave a clear space in the middle. In this
space lay a large and heavy flagstone with a rusted iron ring in
the centre to which a thick shepherd's-check muffler was
attached.</p>

<p>"'By Jove!' cried my client. 'That's Brunton's muffler. I have
seen it on him, and could swear to it. What has the villain been
doing here?'</p>

<p>"At my suggestion a couple of the county police were summoned
to be present, and I then endeavored to raise the stone by
pulling on the cravat. I could only move it slightly, and it was
with the aid of one of the constables that I succeeded at last in
carrying it to one side. A black hole yawned beneath into which
we all peered, while Musgrave, kneeling at the side, pushed down
the lantern.</p>

<p>"A small chamber about seven feet deep and four feet square
lay open to us. At one side of this was a squat, brass-bound
wooden box, the lid of which was hinged upwards, with this
curious old-fashioned key projecting from the lock. It was furred
outside by a thick layer of dust, and damp and worms had eaten
through the wood, so that a crop of livid fungi was growing on
the inside of it. Several discs of metal, old coins apparently,
such as I hold here, were scattered over the bottom of the box,
but it contained nothing else.</p>

<p>"At the moment, however, we had no thought for the old chest,
for our eyes were riveted upon that which crouched beside it. It
was the figure of a man, clad in a suit of black, who squatted
down upon him hams with his forehead sunk upon the edge of the
box and his two arms thrown out on each side of it. The attitude
had drawn all the stagnant blood to the face, and no man could
have recognized that distorted liver-colored countenance; but his
height, his dress, and his hair were all sufficient to show my
client, when we had drawn the body up, that it was indeed his
missing butler. He had been dead some days, but there was no
wound or bruise upon his person to show how he had met his
dreadful end. When his body had been carried from the cellar we
found ourselves still confronted with a problem which was almost
as formidable as that with which we had started.</p>

<p>"I confess that so far, Watson, I had been disappointed in my
investigation. I had reckoned upon solving the matter when once I
had found the place referred to in the Ritual; but now I was
there, and was apparently as far as ever from knowing what it was
which the family had concealed with such elaborate precautions.
It is true that I had thrown a light upon the fate of Brunton,
but now I had to ascertain how that fate had come upon him, and
what part had been played in the matter by the woman who had
disappeared. I sat down upon a keg in the corner and thought the
whole matter carefully over.</p>

<p>"You know my methods in such cases, Watson. I put myself in
the man's place and, having first gauged his intelligence, I try
to imagine how I should myself have proceeded under the same
circumstances. In this case the matter was simplified by
Brunton's intelligence being quite first-rate, so that it was
unnecessary to make any allowance for the personal equation, as
the astronomers have dubbed it. He know that something valuable
was concealed. He had spotted the place. He found that the stone
which covered it was just too heavy for a man to move unaided.
What would he do next? He could not get help from outside, even
if he had some one whom he could trust, without the unbarring of
doors and considerable risk of detection. It was better, if he
could, to have his helpmate inside the house. But whom could he
ask? This girl had been devoted to him. A man always finds it
hard to realize that he may have finally lost a woman's love,
however badly he may have treated her. He would try by a few
attentions to make his peace with the girl Howells, and then
would engage her as his accomplice. Together they would come at
night to the cellar, and their united force would suffice to
raise the stone. So far I could follow their actions as if I had
actually seen them.</p>

<p>"But for two of them, and one a woman, it must have been heavy
work the raising of that stone. A burly Sussex policeman and I
had found it no light job. What would they do to assist them?
Probably what I should have done myself. I rose and examined
carefully the different billets of wood which were scattered
round the floor. Almost at once I came upon what I expected. One
piece, about three feet in length, had a very marked indentation
at one end, while several were flattened at the sides as if they
had been compressed by some considerable weight. Evidently, as
they had dragged the stone up they had thrust the chunks of wood
into the chink, until at last, when the opening was large enough
to crawl through, they would hold it open by a billet placed
lengthwise, which might very well become indented at the lower
end, since the whole weight of the stone would press it down on
to the edge of this other slab. So far I was still on safe
ground.</p>

<p>"And now how was I to proceed to reconstruct this midnight
drama? Clearly, only one could fit into the hole, and that one
was Brunton. The girl must have waited above. Brunton then
unlocked the box, handed up the contents presumably--since they
were not to be found--and then--and then what happened?</p>

<p>"What smouldering fire of vengeance had suddenly sprung into
flame in this passionate Celtic woman's soul when she saw the man
who had wronged her--wronged her, perhaps, far more than we
suspected--in her power? Was it a chance that the wood had
slipped, and that the stone had shut Brunton into what had become
his sepulchre? Had she only been guilty of silence as to his
fate? Or had some sudden blow from her hand dashed the support
away and sent the slab crashing down into its place? Be that as
it might, I seemed to see that woman's figure still clutching at
her treasure trove and flying wildly up the winding stair, with
her ears ringing perhaps with the muffled screams from behind her
and with the drumming of frenzied hands against the slab of stone
which was choking her faithless lover's life out.</p>

<p>"Here was the secret of her blanched face, her shaken nerves,
her peals of hysterical laughter on the next morning. But what
had been in the box? What had she done with that? Of course, it
must have been the old metal and pebbles which my client had
dragged from the mere. She had thrown them in there at the first
opportunity to remove the last trace of her crime.</p>

<p>"For twenty minutes I had sat motionless, thinking the matter
out. Musgrave still stood with a very pale face, swinging his
lantern and peering down into the hole.</p>

<p>"'These are coins of Charles the First,' said he, holding out
the few which had been in the box; 'you see we were right in
fixing our date for the Ritual.'</p>

<p>"'We may find something else of Charles the First,' I cried,
as the probable meaning of the first two question of the Ritual
broke suddenly upon me. 'Let me see the contents of the bag which
you fished from the mere.'</p>

<p>"We ascended to his study, and he laid the debris before me. I
could understand his regarding it as of small importance when I
looked at it, for the metal was almost black and the stones
lustreless and dull. I rubbed one of them on my sleeve, however,
and it glowed afterwards like a spark in the dark hollow of my
hand. The metal work was in the form of a double ring, but it had
been bent and twisted out of its original shape.</p>

<p>"'You must bear in mind,' said I, 'that the royal party made
head in England even after the death of the king, and that when
they at last fled they probably left many of their most precious
possession buried behind them, with the intention of returning
for them in more peaceful times.'</p>

<p>"'My ancestor, Sir Ralph Musgrave, as a prominent Cavalier and
the right-hand man of Charles the Second in his wanderings,' said
my friend.</p>

<p>"'Ah, indeed!' I answered. 'Well now, I think that really
should give us the last link that we wanted. I must congratulate
you on coming into the possession, though in rather a tragic
manner of a relic which is of great intrinsic value, but of even
greater importance as an historical curiosity.'</p>

<p>"'What is it, then?' he gasped in astonishment.</p>

<p>"'It is nothing less than the ancient crown of the kings of
England.'</p>

<p>"'The crown!'</p>

<p>"'Precisely. Consider what the Ritual says: How does it run?
"Whose was it?" "His who is gone." That was after the execution
of Charles. Then, "Who shall have it?" "He who will come." That
was Charles the Second, whose advent was already foreseen. There
can, I think, be no doubt that this battered and shapeless diadem
once encircled the brows of the royal Stuarts.'</p>

<p>"'And how came it in the pond?'</p>

<p>"'Ah, that is a question that will take some time to answer.'
And with that I sketched out to him the whole long chain of
surmise and of proof which I had constructed. The twilight had
closed in and the moon was shining brightly in the sky before my
narrative was finished.</p>

<p>"'And how was it then that Charles did not get his crown when
he returned?' asked Musgrave, pushing back the relic into its
linen bag.</p>

<p>"'Ah, there you lay your finger upon the one point which we
shall probably never be able to clear up. It is likely that the
Musgrave who held the secret died in the interval, and by some
oversight left this guide to his descendant without explaining
the meaning of it. From that day to this it has been handed down
from father to son, until at last it came within reach of a man
who tore its secret out of it and lost his life in the
venture.'</p>

<p>"And that's the story of the Musgrave Ritual, Watson. They
have the crown down at Hurlstone--though they had some legal
bother and a considerable sum to pay before they were allowed to
retain it. I am sure that if you mentioned my name they would be
happy to show it to you. Of the woman nothing was ever heard, and
the probability is that she got away out of England and carried
herself and the memory of her crime to some land beyond the
seas."</p>

<hr>
<h3 align="Center">Adventure VI</h3>

<h3 align="Center">The Reigate Puzzle</h3>

<br>
<p>It was some time before the health of my friend Mr. Sherlock
Holmes recovered from the strain caused by his immense exertions
in the spring of '87. The whole question of the
Netherland-Sumatra Company and of the colossal schemes of Baron
Maupertuis are too recent in the minds of the public, and are too
intimately concerned with politics and finance to be fitting
subjects for this series of sketches. They led, however, in an
indirect fashion to a singular and complex problem which gave my
friend an opportunity of demonstrating the value of a fresh
weapon among the many with which he waged his life-long battle
against crime.</p>

<p>On referring to my notes I see that it was upon the 14th of
April that I received a telegram from Lyons which informed me
that Holmes was lying ill in the Hotel Dulong. Within twenty-four
hours I was in his sick-room, and was relieved to find that there
was nothing formidable in his symptoms. Even his iron
constitution, however, had broken down under the strain of an
investigation which had extended over two months, during which
period he had never worked less than fifteen hours a day, and had
more than once, as he assured me, kept to his task for five days
at a stretch. Even the triumphant issue of his labors could not
save him from reaction after so terrible an exertion, and at a
time when Europe was ringing with his name and when his room was
literally ankle-deep with congratulatory telegrams I found him a
prey to the blackest depression. Even the knowledge that he had
succeeded where the police of three countries had failed, and
that he had outmanoeuvred at every point the most accomplished
swindler in Europe, was insufficient to rouse him from his
nervous prostration.</p>

<p>Three days later we were back in Baker Street together; but it
was evident that my friend would be much the better for a change,
and the thought of a week of spring time in the country was full
of attractions to me also. My old friend, Colonel Hayter, who had
come under my professional care in Afghanistan, had now taken a
house near Reigate in Surrey, and had frequently asked me to come
down to him upon a visit. On the last occasion he had remarked
that if my friend would only come with me he would be glad to
extend his hospitality to him also. A little diplomacy was
needed, but when Holmes understood that the establishment was a
bachelor one, and that he would be allowed the fullest freedom,
he fell in with my plans and a week after our return from Lyons
we were under the Colonel's roof. Hayter was a fine old soldier
who had seen much of the world, and he soon found, as I had
expected, that Holmes and he had much in common.</p>

<p>On the evening of our arrival we were sitting in the Colonel's
gun-room after dinner, Holmes stretched upon the sofa, while
Hayter and I looked over his little armory of Eastern
weapons.</p>

<p>"By the way," said he suddenly, "I think I'll take one of
these pistols upstairs with me in case we have an alarm."</p>

<p>"An alarm!" said I.</p>

<p>"Yes, we've had a scare in this part lately. Old Acton, who is
one of our county magnates, had his house broken into last
Monday. No great damage done, but the fellows are still at
large."</p>

<p>"No clue?" asked Holmes, cocking his eye at the Colonel.</p>

<p>"None as yet. But the affair is a pretty one, one of our
little country crimes, which must seem too small for your
attention, Mr. Holmes, after this great international
affair."</p>

<p>Holmes waved away the compliment, though his smile showed that
it had pleased him.</p>

<p>"Was there any feature of interest?"</p>

<p>"I fancy not. The thieves ransacked the library and got very
little for their pains. The whole place was turned upside down,
drawers burst open, and presses ransacked, with the result that
an odd volume of Pope's 'Homer,' two plated candlesticks, an
ivory letter-weight, a small oak barometer, and a ball of twine
are all that have vanished."</p>

<p>"What an extraordinary assortment!" I exclaimed.</p>

<p>"Oh, the fellows evidently grabbed hold of everything they
could get."</p>

<p>Holmes grunted from the sofa.</p>

<p>"The county police ought to make something of that," said he;
"why, it is surely obvious that--"</p>

<p>But I held up a warning finger.</p>

<p>"You are here for a rest, my dear fellow. For Heaven's sake
don't get started on a new problem when your nerves are all in
shreds."</p>

<p>Holmes shrugged his shoulders with a glance of comic
resignation towards the Colonel, and the talk drifted away into
less dangerous channels.</p>

<p>It was destined, however, that all my professional caution
should be wasted, for next morning the problem obtruded itself
upon us in such a way that it was impossible to ignore it, and
our country visit took a turn which neither of us could have
anticipated. We were at breakfast when the Colonel's butler
rushed in with all his propriety shaken out of him.</p>

<p>"Have you heard the news, sir?" he gasped. "At the
Cunningham's sir!"</p>

<p>"Burglary!" cried the Colonel, with his coffee-cup in
mid-air.</p>

<p>"Murder!"</p>

<p>The Colonel whistled. "By Jove!" said he. "Who's killed, then?
The J.P. or his son?"</p>

<p>"Neither, sir. It was William the coachman. Shot through the
heart, sir, and never spoke again."</p>

<p>"Who shot him, then?"</p>

<p>"The burglar, sir. He was off like a shot and got clean away.
He'd just broke in at the pantry window when William came on him
and met his end in saving his master's property."</p>

<p>"What time?"</p>

<p>"It was last night, sir, somewhere about twelve."</p>

<p>"Ah, then, we'll step over afterwards," said the Colonel,
coolly settling down to his breakfast again. "It's a baddish
business," he added when the butler had gone; "he's our leading
man about here, is old Cunningham, and a very decent fellow too.
He'll be cut up over this, for the man has been in his service
for years and was a good servant. It's evidently the same
villains who broke into Acton's."</p>

<p>"And stole that very singular collection," said Holmes,
thoughtfully.</p>

<p>"Precisely."</p>

<p>"Hum! It may prove the simplest matter in the world, but all
the same at first glance this is just a little curious, is it
not? A gang of burglars acting in the country might be expected
to vary the scene of their operations, and not to crack two cribs
in the same district within a few days. When you spoke last night
of taking precautions I remember that it passed through my mind
that this was probably the last parish in England to which the
thief or thieves would be likely to turn their attention--which
shows that I have still much to learn."</p>

<p>"I fancy it's some local practitioner," said the Colonel. "In
that case, of course, Acton's and Cunningham's are just the
places he would go for, since they are far the largest about
here."</p>

<p>"And richest?"</p>

<p>"Well, they ought to be, but they've had a lawsuit for some
years which has sucked the blood out of both of them, I fancy.
Old Acton has some claim on half Cunningham's estate, and the
lawyers have been at it with both hands."</p>

<p>"If it's a local villain there should not be much difficulty
in running him down," said Holmes with a yawn. "All right,
Watson, I don't intend to meddle."</p>

<p>"Inspector Forrester, sir," said the butler, throwing open the
door.</p>

<p>The official, a smart, keen-faced young fellow, stepped into
the room. "Good-morning, Colonel," said he; "I hope I don't
intrude, but we hear that Mr. Holmes of Baker Street is
here."</p>

<p>The Colonel waved his hand towards my friend, and the
Inspector bowed.</p>

<p>"We thought that perhaps you would care to step across, Mr.
Holmes."</p>

<p>"The fates are against you, Watson," said he, laughing. "We
were chatting about the matter when you came in, Inspector.
Perhaps you can let us have a few details." As he leaned back in
his chair in the familiar attitude I knew that the case was
hopeless.</p>

<p>"We had no clue in the Acton affair. But here we have plenty
to go on, and there's no doubt it is the same party in each case.
The man was seen."</p>

<p>"Ah!"</p>

<p>"Yes, sir. But he was off like a deer after the shot that
killed poor William Kirwan was fired. Mr. Cunningham saw him from
the bedroom window, and Mr. Alec Cunningham saw him from the back
passage. It was quarter to twelve when the alarm broke out. Mr.
Cunningham had just got into bed, and Mr. Alec was smoking a pipe
in his dressing-gown. They both heard William the coachman
calling for help, and Mr. Alec ran down to see what was the
matter. The back door was open, and as he came to the foot of the
stairs he saw two men wrestling together outside. One of them
fired a shot, the other dropped, and the murderer rushed across
the garden and over the hedge. Mr. Cunningham, looking out of his
bedroom, saw the fellow as he gained the road, but lost sight of
him at once. Mr. Alec stopped to see if he could help the dying
man, and so the villain got clean away. Beyond the fact that he
was a middle-sized man and dressed in some dark stuff, we have no
personal clue; but we are making energetic inquiries, and if he
is a stranger we shall soon find him out."</p>

<p>"What was this William doing there? Did he say anything before
he died?"</p>

<p>"Not a word. He lives at the lodge with his mother, and as he
was a very faithful fellow we imagine that he walked up to the
house with the intention of seeing that all was right there. Of
course this Acton business has put every one on their guard. The
robber must have just burst open the door--the lock has been
forced--when William came upon him."</p>

<p>"Did William say anything to his mother before going out?"</p>

<p>"She is very old and deaf, and we can get no information from
her. The shock has made her half-witted, but I understand that
she was never very bright. There is one very important
circumstance, however. Look at this!"</p>

<p>He took a small piece of torn paper from a note-book and
spread it out upon his knee.</p>

<p>"This was found between the finger and thumb of the dead man.
It appears to be a fragment torn from a larger sheet. You will
observe that the hour mentioned upon it is the very time at which
the poor fellow met his fate. You see that his murderer might
have torn the rest of the sheet from him or he might have taken
this fragment from the murderer. It reads almost as though it
were an appointment."</p>

<p>Holmes took up the scrap of paper, a fac-simile of which is
here reproduced.</p>

<p>d at quarter to twelve learn what maybe</p>

<p>"Presuming that it is an appointment," continued the
Inspector, "it is of course a conceivable theory that this
William Kirwan--though he had the reputation of being an honest
man, may have been in league with the thief. He may have met him
there, may even have helped him to break in the door, and then
they may have fallen out between themselves."</p>

<p>"This writing is of extraordinary interest," said Holmes, who
had been examining it with intense concentration. "These are much
deeper waters than I had though." He sank his head upon his
hands, while the Inspector smiled at the effect which his case
had had upon the famous London specialist.</p>

<p>"Your last remark," said Holmes, presently, "as to the
possibility of there being an understanding between the burglar
and the servant, and this being a note of appointment from one to
the other, is an ingenious and not entirely impossible
supposition. But this writing opens up--" He sank his head into
his hands again and remained for some minutes in the deepest
thought. When he raised his face again, I was surprised to see
that his cheek was tinged with color, and his eyes as bright as
before his illness. He sprang to his feet with all his old
energy.</p>

<p>"I'll tell you what," said he, "I should like to have a quiet
little glance into the details of this case. There is something
in it which fascinates me extremely. If you will permit me,
Colonel, I will leave my friend Watson and you, and I will step
round with the Inspector to test the truth of one or two little
fancies of mine. I will be with you again in half an hour."</p>

<p>An hour and half had elapsed before the Inspector returned
alone.</p>

<p>"Mr. Holmes is walking up and down in the field outside," said
he. "He wants us all four to go up to the house together."</p>

<p>"To Mr. Cunningham's?"</p>

<p>"Yes, sir."</p>

<p>"What for?"</p>

<p>The Inspector shrugged his shoulders. "I don't quite know,
sir. Between ourselves, I think Mr. Holmes had not quite got over
his illness yet. He's been behaving very queerly, and he is very
much excited."</p>

<p>"I don't think you need alarm yourself," said I. "I have
usually found that there was method in his madness."</p>

<p>"Some folks might say there was madness in his method,"
muttered the Inspector. "But he's all on fire to start, Colonel,
so we had best go out if you are ready."</p>

<p>We found Holmes pacing up and down in the field, his chin sunk
upon his breast, and his hands thrust into his trousers
pockets.</p>

<p>"The matter grows in interest," said he. "Watson, your
country-trip has been a distinct success. I have had a charming
morning."</p>

<p>"You have been up to the scene of the crime, I understand,"
said the Colonel.</p>

<p>"Yes; the Inspector and I have made quite a little
reconnaissance together."</p>

<p>"Any success?"</p>

<p>"Well, we have seen some very interesting things. I'll tell
you what we did as we walk. First of all, we saw the body of this
unfortunate man. He certainly died from a revolved wound as
reported."</p>

<p>"Had you doubted it, then?"</p>

<p>"Oh, it is as well to test everything. Our inspection was not
wasted. We then had an interview with Mr. Cunningham and his son,
who were able to point out the exact spot where the murderer had
broken through the garden-hedge in his flight. That was of great
interest."</p>

<p>"Naturally."</p>

<p>"Then we had a look at this poor fellow's mother. We could get
no information from her, however, as she is very old and
feeble."</p>

<p>"And what is the result of your investigations?"</p>

<p>"The conviction that the crime is a very peculiar one. Perhaps
our visit now may do something to make it less obscure. I think
that we are both agreed, Inspector that the fragment of paper in
the dead man's hand, bearing, as it does, the very hour of his
death written upon it, is of extreme importance."</p>

<p>"It should give a clue, Mr. Holmes."</p>

<p>"It does give a clue. Whoever wrote that note was the man who
brought William Kirwan out of his bed at that hour. But where is
the rest of that sheet of paper?"</p>

<p>"I examined the ground carefully in the hope of finding it,"
said the Inspector.</p>

<p>"It was torn out of the dead man's hand. Why was some one so
anxious to get possession of it? Because it incriminated him. And
what would he do with it? Thrust it into his pocket, most likely,
never noticing that a corner of it had been left in the grip of
the corpse. If we could get the rest of that sheet it is obvious
that we should have gone a long way towards solving the
mystery."</p>

<p>"Yes, but how can we get at the criminal's pocket before we
catch the criminal?"</p>

<p>"Well, well, it was worth thinking over. Then there is another
obvious point. The note was sent to William. The man who wrote it
could not have taken it; otherwise, of course, he might have
delivered his own message by word of mouth. Who brought the note,
then? Or did it come through the post?"</p>

<p>"I have made inquiries," said the Inspector. "William received
a letter by the afternoon post yesterday. The envelope was
destroyed by him."</p>

<p>"Excellent!" cried Holmes, clapping the Inspector on the back.
"You've seen the postman. It is a pleasure to work with you.
Well, here is the lodge, and if you will come up, Colonel, I will
show you the scene of the crime."</p>

<p>We passed the pretty cottage where the murdered man had lived,
and walked up an oak-lined avenue to the fine old Queen Anne
house, which bears the date of Malplaquet upon the lintel of the
door. Holmes and the Inspector led us round it until we came to
the side gate, which is separated by a stretch of garden from the
hedge which lines the road. A constable was standing at the
kitchen door.</p>

<p>"Throw the door open, officer," said Holmes. "Now, it was on
those stairs that young Mr. Cunningham stood and saw the two men
struggling just where we are. Old Mr. Cunningham was at that
window--the second on the left--and he saw the fellow get away
just to the left of that bush. Then Mr. Alec ran out and knelt
beside the wounded man. The ground is very hard, you see, and
there are no marks to guide us." As he spoke two men came down
the garden path, from round the angle of the house. The one was
an elderly man, with a strong, deep-lined, heavy-eyed face; the
other a dashing young fellow, whose bright, smiling expression
and showy dress were in strange contract with the business which
had brought us there.</p>

<p>"Still at it, then?" said he to Holmes. "I thought you
Londoners were never at fault. You don't seem to be so very
quick, after all."</p>

<p>"Ah, you must give us a little time," said Holmes
good-humoredly.</p>

<p>"You'll want it," said young Alec Cunningham. "Why, I don't
see that we have any clue at all."</p>

<p>"There's only one," answered the Inspector. "We thought that
if we could only find--Good heavens, Mr. Holmes! What is the
matter?"</p>

<p>My poor friend's face had suddenly assumed the most dreadful
expression. His eyes rolled upwards, his features writhed in
agony, and with a suppressed groan he dropped on his face upon
the ground. Horrified at the suddenness and severity of the
attack, we carried him into the kitchen, where he lay back in a
large chair, and breathed heavily for some minutes. Finally, with
a shamefaced apology for his weakness, he rose once more.</p>

<p>"Watson would tell you that I have only just recovered from a
severe illness," he explained. "I am liable to these sudden
nervous attacks."</p>

<p>"Shall I send you home in my trap?" asked old Cunningham.</p>

<p>"Well, since I am here, there is one point on which I should
like to feel sure. We can very easily verify it."</p>

<p>"What was it?"</p>

<p>"Well, it seems to me that it is just possible that the
arrival of this poor fellow William was not before, but after,
the entrance of the burglary into the house. You appear to take
it for granted that, although the door was forced, the robber
never got in."</p>

<p>"I fancy that is quite obvious," said Mr. Cunningham, gravely.
"Why, my son Alec had not yet gone to bed, and he would certainly
have heard any one moving about."</p>

<p>"Where was he sitting?"</p>

<p>"I was smoking in my dressing-room."</p>

<p>"Which window is that?"</p>

<p>"The last on the left next my father's."</p>

<p>"Both of your lamps were lit, of course?"</p>

<p>"Undoubtedly."</p>

<p>"There are some very singular points here," said Holmes,
smiling. "Is it not extraordinary that a burglary--and a burglar
who had had some previous experience--should deliberately break
into a house at a time when he could see from the lights that two
of the family were still afoot?"</p>

<p>"He must have been a cool hand."</p>

<p>"Well, of course, if the case were not an odd one we should
not have been driven to ask you for an explanation," said young
Mr. Alec. "But as to your ideas that the man had robbed the house
before William tackled him, I think it a most absurd notion.
Wouldn't we have found the place disarranged, and missed the
things which he had taken?"</p>

<p>"It depends on what the things were," said Holmes. "You must
remember that we are dealing with a burglar who is a very
peculiar fellow, and who appears to work on lines of his own.
Look, for example, at the queer lot of things which he took from
Acton's--what was it?--a ball of string, a letter-weight, and I
don't know what other odds and ends."</p>

<p>"Well, we are quite in your hands, Mr. Holmes," said old
Cunningham. "Anything which you or the Inspector may suggest will
most certainly be done."</p>

<p>"In the first place," said Holmes, "I should like you to offer
a reward--coming from yourself, for the officials may take a
little time before they would agree upon the sum, and these
things cannot be done too promptly. I have jotted down the form
here, if you would not mind signing it. Fifty pound was quite
enough, I thought."</p>

<p>"I would willingly give five hundred," said the J.P., taking
the slip of paper and the pencil which Holmes handed to him.
"This is not quite correct, however," he added, glancing over the
document.</p>

<p>"I wrote it rather hurriedly."</p>

<p>"You see you begin, 'Whereas, at about a quarter to one on
Tuesday morning an attempt was made,' and so on. It was at a
quarter to twelve, as a matter of fact."</p>

<p>I was pained at the mistake, for I knew how keenly Holmes
would feel any slip of the kind. It was his specialty to be
accurate as to fact, but his recent illness had shaken him, and
this one little incident was enough to show me that he was still
far from being himself. He was obviously embarrassed for an
instant, while the Inspector raised his eyebrows, and Alec
Cunningham burst into a laugh. The old gentleman corrected the
mistake, however, and handed the paper back to Holmes.</p>

<p>"Get it printed as soon as possible," he said; "I think your
idea is an excellent one."</p>

<p>Holmes put the slip of paper carefully away into his
pocket-book.</p>

<p>"And now," said he, "it really would be a good thing that we
should all go over the house together and make certain that this
rather erratic burglar did not, after all, carry anything away
with him."</p>

<p>Before entering, Holmes made an examination of the door which
had been forced. It was evident that a chisel or strong knife had
been thrust in, and the lock forced back with it. We could see
the marks in the wood where it had been pushed in.</p>

<p>"You don't use bars, then?" he asked.</p>

<p>"We have never found it necessary."</p>

<p>"You don't keep a dog?"</p>

<p>"Yes, but he is chained on the other side of the house."</p>

<p>"When do the servants go to bed?"</p>

<p>"About ten."</p>

<p>"I understand that William was usually in bed also at that
hour."</p>

<p>"Yes."</p>

<p>"It is singular that on this particular night he should have
been up. Now, I should be very glad if you would have the
kindness to show us over the house, Mr. Cunningham."</p>

<p>A stone-flagged passage, with the kitchens branching away from
it, led by a wooden staircase directly to the first floor of the
house. It came out upon the landing opposite to a second more
ornamental stair which came up from the front hall. Out of this
landing opened the drawing-room and several bedrooms, including
those of Mr. Cunningham and his son. Holmes walked slowly, taking
keen note of the architecture of the house. I could tell from his
expression that he was on a hot scent, and yet I could not in the
least imagine in what direction his inferences were leading
him.</p>

<p>"My good sir," said Mr. Cunningham with some impatience, "this
is surely very unnecessary. That is my room at the end of the
stairs, and my son's is the one beyond it. I leave it to your
judgment whether it was possible for the thief to have come up
here without disturbing us."</p>

<p>"You must try round and get on a fresh scent, I fancy," said
the son with a rather malicious smile.</p>

<p>"Still, I must ask you to humor me a little further. I should
like, for example, to see how far the windows of the bedrooms
command the front. This, I understand is your son's room"--he
pushed open the door--"and that, I presume, is the dressing-room
in which he sat smoking when the alarm was given. Where does the
window of that look out to?" He stepped across the bedroom,
pushed open the door, and glanced round the other chamber.</p>

<p>"I hope that you are satisfied now?" said Mr. Cunningham,
tartly.</p>

<p>"Thank you, I think I have seen all that I wished."</p>

<p>"Then if it is really necessary we can go into my room."</p>

<p>"If it is not too much trouble."</p>

<p>The J. P. shrugged his shoulders, and led the way into his own
chamber, which was a plainly furnished and commonplace room. As
we moved across it in the direction of the window, Holmes fell
back until he and I were the last of the group. Near the foot of
the bed stood a dish of oranges and a carafe of water. As we
passed it Holmes, to my unutterable astonishment, leaned over in
front of me and deliberately knocked the whole thing over. The
glass smashed into a thousand pieces and the fruit rolled about
into every corner of the room.</p>

<p>"You've done it now, Watson," said he, coolly. "A pretty mess
you've made of the carpet."</p>

<p>I stooped in some confusion and began to pick up the fruit,
understanding for some reason my companion desired me to take the
blame upon myself. The others did the same, and set the table on
its legs again.</p>

<p>"Hullo!" cried the Inspector, "where's he got to?"</p>

<p>Holmes had disappeared.</p>

<p>"Wait here an instant," said young Alec Cunningham. "The
fellow is off his head, in my opinion. Come with me, father, and
see where he has got to!"</p>

<p>They rushed out of the room, leaving the Inspector, the
Colonel, and me staring at each other.</p>

<p>"'Pon my word, I am inclined to agree with Master Alec," said
the official. "It may be the effect of this illness, but it seems
to me that--"</p>

<p>His words were cut short by a sudden scream of "Help! Help!
Murder!" With a thrill I recognized the voice of that of my
friend. I rushed madly from the room on to the landing. The
cries, which had sunk down into a hoarse, inarticulate shouting,
came from the room which we had first visited. I dashed in, and
on into the dressing-room beyond. The two Cunninghams were
bending over the prostrate figure of Sherlock Holmes, the younger
clutching his throat with both hands, while the elder seemed to
be twisting one of his wrists. In an instant the three of us had
torn them away from him, and Holmes staggered to his feet, very
pale and evidently greatly exhausted.</p>

<p>"Arrest these men, Inspector," he gasped.</p>

<p>"On what charge?"</p>

<p>"That of murdering their coachman, William Kirwan."</p>

<p>The Inspector stared about him in bewilderment. "Oh, come now,
Mr. Holmes," said he at last, "I'm sure you don't really mean
to--"</p>

<p>"Tut, man, look at their faces!" cried Holmes, curtly.</p>

<p>Never certainly have I seen a plainer confession of guilt upon
human countenances. The older man seemed numbed and dazed with a
heavy, sullen expression upon his strongly-marked face. The son,
on the other hand, had dropped all that jaunty, dashing style
which had characterized him, and the ferocity of a dangerous wild
beast gleamed in his dark eyes and distorted his handsome
features. The Inspector said nothing, but, stepping to the door,
he blew his whistle. Two of his constables came at the call.</p>

<p>"I have no alternative, Mr. Cunningham," said he. "I trust
that this may all prove to be an absurd mistake, but you can see
that--Ah, would you? Drop it!" He struck out with his hand, and a
revolver which the younger man was in the act of cocking
clattered down upon the floor.</p>

<p>"Keep that," said Holmes, quietly putting his foot upon it;
"you will find it useful at the trial. But this is what we really
wanted." He held up a little crumpled piece of paper.</p>

<p>"The remainder of the sheet!" cried the Inspector.</p>

<p>"Precisely."</p>

<p>"And where was it?"</p>

<p>"Where I was sure it must be. I'll make the whole matter clear
to you presently. I think, Colonel, that you and Watson might
return now, and I will be with you again in an hour at the
furthest. The Inspector and I must have a word with the
prisoners, but you will certainly see me back at luncheon
time."</p>

<p>Sherlock Holmes was as good as his word, for about one o'clock
he rejoined us in the Colonel's smoking-room. He was accompanied
by a little elderly gentleman, who was introduced to me as the
Mr. Acton whose house had been the scene of the original
burglary.</p>

<p>"I wished Mr. Acton to be present while I demonstrated this
small matter to you," said Holmes, "for it is natural that he
should take a keen interest in the details. I am afraid, my dear
Colonel, that you must regret the hour that you took in such a
stormy petrel as I am."</p>

<p>"On the contrary," answered the Colonel, warmly, "I consider
it the greatest privilege to have been permitted to study your
methods of working. I confess that they quite surpass my
expectations, and that I am utterly unable to account for you
result. I have not yet seen the vestige of a clue."</p>

<p>"I am afraid that my explanation may disillusion you but it
has always been my habit to hide none of my methods, either from
my friend Watson or from any one who might take an intelligent
interest in them. But, first, as I am rather shaken by the
knocking about which I had in the dressing-room, I think that I
shall help myself to a dash of your brandy, Colonel. My strength
had been rather tried of late."</p>

<p>"I trust that you had no more of those nervous attacks."</p>

<p>Sherlock Holmes laughed heartily. "We will come to that in its
turn," said he. "I will lay an account of the case before you in
its due order, showing you the various points which guided me in
my decision. Pray interrupt me if there is any inference which is
not perfectly clear to you.</p>

<p>"It is of the highest importance in the art of detection to be
able to recognize, out of a number of facts, which are incidental
and which vital. Otherwise your energy and attention must be
dissipated instead of being concentrated. Now, in this case there
was not the slightest doubt in my mind from the first that the
key of the whole matter must be looked for in the scrap of paper
in the dead man's hand.</p>

<p>"Before going into this, I would draw your attention to the
fact that, if Alec Cunningham's narrative was correct, and if the
assailant, after shooting William Kirwan, had instantly fled,
then it obviously could not be he who tore the paper from the
dead man's hand. But if it was not he, it must have been Alec
Cunningham himself, for by the time that the old man had
descended several servants were upon the scene. The point is a
simple one, but the Inspector had overlooked it because he had
started with the supposition that these county magnates had had
nothing to do with the matter. Now, I make a pint of never having
any prejudices, and of following docilely wherever fact may lead
me, and so, in the very first stage of the investigation, I found
myself looking a little askance at the part which had been played
by Mr. Alec Cunningham.</p>

<p>"And now I made a very careful examination of the corner of
paper which the Inspector had submitted to us. It was at once
clear to me that it formed part of a very remarkable document.
Here it is. Do you not now observed something very suggestive
about it?"</p>

<p>"It has a very irregular look," said the Colonel.</p>

<p>"My dear sir," cried Holmes, "there cannot be the least doubt
in the world that it has been written by two persons doing
alternate words. When I draw your attention to the strong t's of
'at' and 'to', and ask you to compare them with the weak ones of
'quarter' and 'twelve,' you will instantly recognize the fact. A
very brief analysis of these four words would enable you to say
with the utmost confidence that the 'learn' and the 'maybe' are
written in the stronger hand, and the 'what' in the weaker."</p>

<p>"By Jove, it's as clear as day!" cried the Colonel. "Why on
earth should two men write a letter in such a fashion?"</p>

<p>"Obviously the business was a bad one, and one of the men who
distrusted the other was determined that, whatever was done, each
should have an equal hand in it. Now, of the two men, it is clear
that the one who wrote the 'at' and 'to' was the ringleader."</p>

<p>"How do you get at that?"</p>

<p>"We might deduce it from the mere character of the one hand as
compared with the other. But we have more assured reasons than
that for supposing it. If you examine this scrap with attention
you will come to the conclusion that the man with the stronger
hand wrote all his words first, leaving blanks for the other to
fill up. These blanks were not always sufficient, and you can see
that the second man had a squeeze to fit his 'quarter' in between
the 'at' and the 'to,' showing that the latter were already
written. The man who wrote all his words first in undoubtedly the
man who planned the affair."</p>

<p>"Excellent!" cried Mr. Acton.</p>

<p>"But very superficial," said Holmes. "We come now, however, to
a point which is of importance. You may not be aware that the
deduction of a man's age from his writing is one which has
brought to considerable accuracy by experts. In normal cases one
can place a man in his true decade with tolerable confidence. I
say normal cases, because ill-health and physical weakness
reproduce the signs of old age, even when the invalid is a youth.
In this case, looking at the bold, strong hand of the one, and
the rather broken-backed appearance of the other, which still
retains its legibility although the t's have begun to lose their
crossing, we can say that the one was a young man and the other
was advanced in years without being positively decrepit."</p>

<p>"Excellent!" cried Mr. Acton again.</p>

<p>"There is a further point, however, which is subtler and of
greater interest. There is something in common between these
hands. They belong to men who are blood-relatives. It may be most
obvious to you in the Greek e's, but to me there are many small
points which indicate the same thing. I have no doubt at all that
a family mannerism can be traced in these two specimens of
writing. I am only, of course, giving you the leading results now
of my examination of the paper. There were twenty-three other
deductions which would be of more interest to experts than to
you. They all tend to deepen the impression upon my mind that the
Cunninghams, father and son, had written this letter.</p>

<p>"Having got so far, my next step was, of course, to examine
into the details of the crime, and to see how far they would help
us. I went up to the house with the Inspector, and saw all that
was to be seen. The wound upon the dead man was, as I was able to
determine with absolute confidence, fired from a revolver at the
distance of something over four yards. There was no
powder-blackening on the clothes. Evidently, therefore, Alec
Cunningham had lied when he said that the two men were struggling
when the shot was fired. Again, both father and son agreed as to
the place where the man escaped into the road. At that point,
however, as it happens, there is a broadish ditch, moist at the
bottom. As there were no indications of bootmarks about this
ditch, I was absolutely sure not only that the Cunninghams had
again lied, but that there had never been any unknown man upon
the scene at all.</p>

<p>"And now I have to consider the motive of this singular crime.
To get at this, I endeavored first of all to solve the reason of
the original burglary at Mr. Acton's. I understood, from
something which the Colonel told us, that a lawsuit had been
going on between you, Mr. Acton, and the Cunninghams. Of course,
it instantly occurred to me that they had broken into your
library with the intention of getting at some document which
might be of importance in the case."</p>

<p>"Precisely so," said Mr. Acton. "There can be no possible
doubt as to their intentions. I have the clearest claim upon half
of their present estate, and if they could have found a single
paper--which, fortunately, was in the strong-box of my
solicitors--they would undoubtedly have crippled our case."</p>

<p>"There you are," said Holmes, smiling. "It was a dangerous,
reckless attempt, in which I seem to trace the influence of young
Alec. Having found nothing they tried to divert suspicion by
making it appear to be an ordinary burglary, to which end they
carried off whatever they could lay their hands upon. That is all
clear enough, but there was much that was still obscure. What I
wanted above all was to get the missing part of that note. I was
certain that Alec had torn it out of the dead man's hand, and
almost certain that he must have thrust it into the pocket of his
dressing-gown. Where else could he have put it? The only question
was whether it was still there. It was worth an effort to find
out, and for that object we all went up to the house.</p>

<p>"The Cunninghams joined us, as you doubtless remember, outside
the kitchen door. It was, of course, of the very first importance
that they should not be reminded of the existence of this paper,
otherwise they would naturally destroy it without delay. The
Inspector was about to tell them the importance which we attached
to it when, by the luckiest chance in the world, I tumbled down
in a sort of fit and so changed the conversation.</p>

<p>"Good heavens!" cried the Colonel, laughing, "do you mean to
say all our sympathy was wasted and your fit an imposture?"</p>

<p>"Speaking professionally, it was admirably done," cried I,
looking in amazement at this man who was forever confounding me
with some new phase of his astuteness.</p>

<p>"It is an art which is often useful," said he. "When I
recovered I managed, by a device which had perhaps some little
merit of ingenuity, to get old Cunningham to write the word
'twelve,' so that I might compare it with the 'twelve' upon the
paper."</p>

<p>"Oh, what an ass I have been!" I exclaimed.</p>

<p>"I could see that you were commiserating me over my weakness,"
said Holmes, laughing. "I was sorry to cause you the sympathetic
pain which I know that you felt. We then went upstairs together,
and having entered the room and seen the dressing-gown hanging up
behind the door, I contrived, by upsetting a table, to engage
their attention for the moment, and slipped back to examine the
pockets. I had hardly got the paper, however--which was, as I had
expected, in one of them--when the two Cunninghams were on me,
and would, I verily believe, have murdered me then and there but
for your prompt and friendly aid. As it is, I feel that young
man's grip on my throat now, and the father has twisted my wrist
round in the effort to get the paper out of my hand. They saw
that I must know all about it, you see, and the sudden change
from absolute security to complete despair made them perfectly
desperate.</p>

<p>"I had a little talk with old Cunningham afterwards as to the
motive of the crime. He was tractable enough, though his son was
a perfect demon, ready to blow out his own or anybody else's
brains if he could have got to his revolver. When Cunningham saw
that the case against him was so strong he lost all heart and
made a clean breast of everything. It seems that William had
secretly followed his two masters on the night when they made
their raid upon Mr. Acton's, and having thus got them into his
power, proceeded, under threats of exposure, to levy black-mail
upon them. Mr. Alec, however, was a dangerous man to play games
of that sort with. It was a stroke of positive genius on his part
to see in the burglary scare which was convulsing the country
side an opportunity of plausibly getting rid of the man whom he
feared. William was decoyed up and shot, and had they only got
the whole of the note and paid a little more attention to detail
in the accessories, it is very possible that suspicion might
never have been aroused."</p>

<p>"And the note?" I asked.</p>

<p>Sherlock Holmes placed the subjoined paper before us.</p>

<p>If you will only come around to the east gate you will will
very much surprise you and be of the greatest service to you and
also to Annie Morrison. But say nothing to anyone upon the
matter</p>

<p>"It is very much the sort of thing that I expected," said he.
"Of course, we do not yet know what the relations may have been
between Alec Cunningham, William Kirwan, and Annie Morrison. The
results shows that the trap was skillfully baited. I am sure that
you cannot fail to be delighted with the traces of heredity shown
in the p's and in the tails of the g's. The absence of the i-dots
in the old man's writing is also most characteristic. Watson, I
think our quiet rest in the country has been a distinct success,
and I shall certainly return much invigorated to Baker Street
to-morrow."</p>

<hr>
<h3 align="Center">Adventure VII</h3>

<h3 align="Center">The Crooked Man</h3>

<br>
<p>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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"Ah, Watson," said he, "I hoped that I might not be too late
to catch you."</p>

<p>"My dear fellow, pray come in."</p>

<p>"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?"</p>

<p>"With pleasure."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"I shall be delighted if you will stay."</p>

<p>"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?"</p>

<p>"No, the gas."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"I see that you are professionally rather busy just now," said
he, glancing very keenly across at me.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>Holmes chuckled to himself.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Excellent!" I cried.</p>

<p>"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
your, 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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"I should be delighted."</p>

<p>"Could you go as far as Aldershot to-morrow?"</p>

<p>"I have no doubt Jackson would take my practice."</p>

<p>"Very good. I want to start by the 11.10 from Waterloo."</p>

<p>"That would give me time."</p>

<p>"Then, if you are not too sleepy, I will give you a sketch of
what has happened, and of what remains to be done."</p>

<p>"I was sleepy before you came. I am quite wakeful now."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"I have heard nothing of it."</p>

<p>"It has not excited much attention yet, except locally. The
facts are only two days old. Briefly they are these:</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"Now for the events at Lachine between nine and ten on the
evening of last Monday."</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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
tan 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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"Having gathered these facts, Watson, I smoke 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 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."</p>

<p>"His companion!"</p>

<p>Holmes pulled a large sheet of tissue-paper out of his pocket
and carefully unfolded it upon his knee.</p>

<p>"What do you make of that?" he asked.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"It's a dog," said I.</p>

<p>"Did you ever hear of a dog running up a curtain? I found
distinct traces that this creature had done so."</p>

<p>"A monkey, then?"</p>

<p>"But it is not the print of a monkey."</p>

<p>"What can it be, then?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"How do you deduce that?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Then what was the beast?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"But what had it to do with the crime?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"You discoveries seem to have left the business more obscure
that it was before," said I.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Thank you, you have gone rather too far to stop."</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"'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.</p>

<p>"'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.</p>

<p>"'"I thought you had been dead this thirty years, Henry," said
she, in a shaking voice.</p>

<p>"'"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.</p>

<p>"'"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.</p>

<p>"'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.</p>

<p>"'"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.'</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"And you intend to ask him?"</p>

<p>"Most certainly--but in the presence of a witness."</p>

<p>"And I am the witness?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"But how do you know he'll be there when we return?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"This is the street," said he, as we turned into a short
thoroughfare lined with plain tow-storied brick houses. "Ah, here
is Simpson to report."</p>

<p>"He's in all right, Mr. Holmes," cried a small street Arab,
running up to us.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"Mr. Henry Wood, late of India, I believe," said Holmes,
affably. "I've come over this little matter of Colonel Barclay's
death."</p>

<p>"What should I know about that?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>The man gave a violent start.</p>

<p>"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?"</p>

<p>"Why, they are only waiting for her to come to her senses to
arrest her."</p>

<p>"My God! Are you in the police yourself?"</p>

<p>"No."</p>

<p>"What business is it of yours, then?"</p>

<p>"It's every man's business to see justice done."</p>

<p>"You can take my word that she is innocent."</p>

<p>"Then you are guilty."</p>

<p>"No, I am not."</p>

<p>"Who killed Colonel James Barclay, then?"</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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 ayear, 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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"And then?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Who's Teddy?" asked Holmes.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"It's a mongoose," I cried.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"Any other point, sir?"</p>

<p>"Well, we may have to apply to you again if Mrs. Barclay
should prove to be in serious trouble."</p>

<p>"In that case, of course, I'd come forward."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>We were in time to overtake the major before he reached the
corner.</p>

<p>"Ah, Holmes," he said: "I suppose you have heard that all this
fuss has come to nothing?"</p>

<p>"What then?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Oh, remarkably superficial," said Holmes, smiling. "Come,
Watson, I don't think we shall be wanted in Aldershot any
more."</p>

<p>"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?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<hr>
<h3 align="Center">Adventure VIII</h3>

<h3 align="Center">The Resident Patient</h3>

<br>
<p>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.</p>

<p>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 tern 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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"You are right, Watson," said he. "It does seem a very
preposterous way of settling a dispute."</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"What is this, Holmes?" I cried. "This is beyond anything
which I could have imagined."</p>

<p>He laughed heartily at my perplexity.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Oh, no!"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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 clews
can I have given you?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Do you mean to say that you read my train of thoughts from my
features?"</p>

<p>"Your features, and especially your eyes. Perhaps you cannot
yourself recall how your reverie commenced?"</p>

<p>"No, I cannot."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"You have followed me wonderfully!" I exclaimed.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Absolutely!" said I. "And now that you have explained it, I
confess that I am as amazed as before."</p>

<p>"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?"</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"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!"</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"Good-evening, doctor," said Holmes, cheerily. "I am glad to
see that you have only been waiting a very few minutes."</p>

<p>"You spoke to my coachman, then?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"My name is Doctor Percy Trevelyan," said our visitor, "and I
live at 403 Brook Street."</p>

<p>"Are you not the author of a monograph upon obscure nervous
lesions?" I asked.</p>

<p>His pale cheeks flushed with pleasure at hearing that his work
was known to me.</p>

<p>"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?"</p>

<p>"A retired army surgeon."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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."</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"'You are the same Percy Trevelyan who has had so
distinguished a career and own a great prize lately?' said
he.</p>

<p>"I bowed.</p>

<p>"'Answer my 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?'</p>

<p>"I could not help smiling at the abruptness of the
question.</p>

<p>"'I trust that I have my share,' I said.</p>

<p>"'Any bad habits? Not drawn towards drink, eh?'</p>

<p>"'Really, sir!' I cried.</p>

<p>"'Quite right! That's all right! But I was bound to ask. With
all these qualities, why are you not in practice?'</p>

<p>"I shrugged my shoulders.</p>

<p>"'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?'</p>

<p>"I stared at him in astonishment.</p>

<p>"'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.'</p>

<p>"'But why?' I gasped.</p>

<p>"'Well, it's just like any other speculation, and safer than
most.'</p>

<p>"'What am I to do , then?'</p>

<p>"'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.'</p>

<p>"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 cam 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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"'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.'</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"'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.'</p>

<p>"I was touched by this filial anxiety. 'You would, perhaps,
care to remain during the consultation?' said I.</p>

<p>"'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.'</p>

<p>"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 cased 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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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 cam 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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"'I feel that I owe you a great many apologies for my abrupt
departure yesterday, doctor,' said my patient.</p>

<p>"'I confess that I was very much surprised at it,' said I.</p>

<p>"'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.'</p>

<p>"'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.'</p>

<p>"'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.'</p>

<p>"'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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"'Who has been in my room?' he cried.</p>

<p>"'No one,' said I.</p>

<p>"'It's a lie! He yelled. 'Come up and look!'</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"'D'you mean to say those are mine?' he cried.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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
dripped 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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"I have a pistol," it cried. "I give you my word that I'll
fire if you come any nearer."</p>

<p>"This really grows outrageous, Mr. Blessington," cried Dr.
Trevelyan.</p>

<p>"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?"</p>

<p>We were conscious of a long scrutiny out of the darkness.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Quite so," said Holmes. "Who are these tow men Mr.
Blessington, and why do they wish to molest you?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Do you mean that you don't know?"</p>

<p>"Come in here, if you please. Just have the kindness to step
in here."</p>

<p>He led the way into his bedroom, which was large and
comfortably furnished.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>Holmes looked at Blessington in his questioning way and shook
his head.</p>

<p>"I cannot possibly advise you if you try to deceive me," said
he.</p>

<p>"But I have told you everything."</p>

<p>Holmes turned on his heel with a gesture of disgust.
"Good-night, Dr. Trevelyan," said he.</p>

<p>"And no advice for me?" cried Blessington, in a breaking
voice.</p>

<p>"My advice to your, sir, is to speak the truth."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"I can make little of it," I confessed.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"And the catalepsy?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"And then?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"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?"</p>

<p>I saw in the gaslight that Holmes wore an amused smile at this
brilliant departure of mine.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"There's a brougham waiting for us, Watson," said he.</p>

<p>"What's the matter, then?"</p>

<p>"The Brook Street business."</p>

<p>"Any fresh news?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"Oh, such a business!" he cried, with his hands to his
temples.</p>

<p>"What then?"</p>

<p>"Blessington has committed suicide!"</p>

<p>Holmes whistled.</p>

<p>"Yes, he hanged himself during the night."</p>

<p>We had entered, and the doctor had preceded us into what was
evidently his waiting-room.</p>

<p>"I really hardly know what I am doing," he cried. "The police
are already upstairs. It has shaken me most dreadfully."</p>

<p>"When did you find it out?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>Holmes stood for a moment in deep thought.</p>

<p>"With your permission," said he at last, "I should like to go
upstairs and look into the matter."</p>

<p>We both ascended, followed by the doctor.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"Ah, Mr. Holmes," said he, heartily, as my friend entered, "I
am delighted to see you."</p>

<p>"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?"</p>

<p>"Yes, I heard something of them."</p>

<p>"Have you formed any opinion?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"I should say that he has been dead about three hours, judging
by the rigidity of the muscles," said I.</p>

<p>"Noticed anything peculiar about the room?" asked Holmes.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Hum!" said Holmes, "have you got his cigar-holder?"</p>

<p>"No, I have seen none."</p>

<p>"His cigar-case, then?"</p>

<p>"Yes, it was in his coat-pocket."</p>

<p>Holmes opened it and smelled the single cigar which it
contained.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Impossible!" cried the inspector.</p>

<p>"And why?"</p>

<p>"Why should any one murder a man in so clumsy a fashion as by
hanging him?"</p>

<p>"That is what we have to find out."</p>

<p>"How could they get in?"</p>

<p>"Through the front door."</p>

<p>"It was barred in the morning."</p>

<p>"Then it was barred after them."</p>

<p>"How do you know?"</p>

<p>"I saw their traces. Excuse me a moment, and I may be able to
give you some further information about it."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"How about this rope?" he asked.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"But you have told us nothing!" cried the doctor.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"The young imp cannot be found," said Dr. Trevelyan; "the maid
and the cook have just been searching for him."</p>

<p>Holmes shrugged his shoulders.</p>

<p>"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--"</p>

<p>"My dear Holmes!" I ejaculated.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"Any news, Inspector?"</p>

<p>"We have got the boy, sir."</p>

<p>"Excellent, and I have got the men."</p>

<p>"You have got them!" we cried, all three.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"The Worthingdon bank gang," cried the inspector.</p>

<p>"Precisely," said Holmes.</p>

<p>"Then Blessington must have been Sutton."</p>

<p>"Exactly," said Holmes.</p>

<p>"Why, that makes it as clear as crystal," said the
inspector.</p>

<p>But Trevelyan and I looked at each other in bewilderment.</p>

<p>"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?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Quite so. His talk about a burglary was the merest
blind."</p>

<p>"But why could he not tell you this?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<hr>
<h3 align="Center">Adventure IX</h3>

<h3 align="Center">The Greek Interpreter</h3>

<br>
<p>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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"But how do you know that it is hereditary?"</p>

<p>"Because my brother Mycroft possesses it in a larger degree
than I do."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Is he your junior?"</p>

<p>"Seven years my senior."</p>

<p>"How comes it that he is unknown?"</p>

<p>"Oh, he is very well known in his own circle."</p>

<p>"Where, then?"</p>

<p>"Well, in the Diogenes Club, for example."</p>

<p>I had never heard of the institution, and my face must have
proclaimed as much, for Sherlock Holmes pulled out his watch.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Five minutes later we were in the street, walking towards
Regent's Circus.</p>

<p>"You wonder," said my companion, "why it is that Mycroft does
not use his powers for detective work. He is incapable of
it."</p>

<p>"But I thought you said--"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"It is not his profession, then?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"I cannot recall the name."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"No, I solved it," said my friend, smiling.</p>

<p>"It was Adams, of course."</p>

<p>"Yes, it was Adams."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"The billiard-marker and the other?"</p>

<p>"Precisely. What do you make of the other?"</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"An old soldier, I perceive," said Sherlock.</p>

<p>"And very recently discharged," remarked the brother.</p>

<p>"Served in India, I see."</p>

<p>"And a non-commissioned officer."</p>

<p>"Royal Artillery, I fancy," said Sherlock.</p>

<p>"And a widower."</p>

<p>"But with a child."</p>

<p>"Children, my dear boy, children."</p>

<p>"Come," said I, laughing, "this is a little too much."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"That he has not left the service long is shown by his still
wearing is ammunition boots, as they are called," observed
Mycroft.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"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--"</p>

<p>"My dear Mycroft, I should be delighted."</p>

<p>The brother scribbled a note upon a leaf of his pocket-book,
and, ringing the bell, he handed it to the waiter.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"I am all attention," said Sherlock Holmes.</p>

<p>"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 traveler 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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"'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.'</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"'This is very extraordinary conduct, Mr. Latimer,' I
stammered. 'You must be aware that what you are doing is quite
illegal.'</p>

<p>"'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.'</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"'Is this Mr. Melas, Harold?' said he.</p>

<p>"'Yes.'</p>

<p>"'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.</p>

<p>"'What do you want with me?' I asked.</p>

<p>"'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.'</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"'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?'</p>

<p>"The man's eyes flashed fire.</p>

<p>"'Never!' he wrote in Greek upon the slate.</p>

<p>"'On no condition?' I asked, at the bidding of our tyrant.</p>

<p>"'Only if I see her married in my presence by a Greek priest
whom I know.'</p>

<p>"The man giggled in his venomous way.</p>

<p>"'You know what awaits you, then?'</p>

<p>"'I care nothing for myself.'</p>

<p>"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:</p>

<p>"'You can do no good by this obstinacy. Who are you?'</p>

<p>"'I care not. I am a stranger in London.'</p>

<p>"'Your fate will be upon your own head. How long have you been
here?'</p>

<p>"'Let it be so. Three weeks.'</p>

<p>"'The property can never be yours. What ails you?'</p>

<p>"'It shall not go to villains. They are starving me.'</p>

<p>"'You shall go free if you sign. What house is this?'</p>

<p>"'I will never sign. I do not know.'</p>

<p>"'You are not doing her any service. What is your name?'</p>

<p>"'Let me hear her say so. Kratides.'</p>

<p>"'You shall see her if you sign. Where are you from?'</p>

<p>"'Then I shall never see her. Athens.'</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"'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!'</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"'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.'</p>

<p>"I bowed.</p>

<p>"'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!"</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"'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.'</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"'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.'</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"'Can you tell me what place this is?' I asked.</p>

<p>"'Wandsworth Common,' said he.</p>

<p>"'Can I get a train into town?'</p>

<p>"'If you walk on a mile or so to Clapham Junction,' said he,
'you'll just be in time for the last to Victoria.'</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>We all sat in silence for some little time after listening to
this extraordinary narrative. Then Sherlock looked across at his
brother.</p>

<p>"Any steps?" he asked.</p>

<p>Mycroft picked up the Daily News, which was lying on the
side-table.</p>

<p>"'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."</p>

<p>"How about the Greek Legation?"</p>

<p>"I have inquired. They know nothing."</p>

<p>"A wire to the head of the Athens police, then?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>As we walked home together, Holmes stopped at a telegraph
office and sent off several wires.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"You have hopes of solving it?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"In a vague way, yes."</p>

<p>"What was your idea, then?"</p>

<p>"IT seemed to me to be obvious that this Greek girl had been
carried off by the young Englishman named Harold Latimer."</p>

<p>"Carried off from where?"</p>

<p>"Athens, perhaps."</p>

<p>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."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"That is more probable."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"But how can we find where this house lies?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"How did you get here?"</p>

<p>"I passed you in a hansom."</p>

<p>"There has been some new development?"</p>

<p>"I had an answer to my advertisement."</p>

<p>"Ah!"</p>

<p>"Yes, it came within a few minutes of your leaving."</p>

<p>"And to what effect?"</p>

<p>Mycroft Holmes took out a sheet of paper.</p>

<p>"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 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.'</p>

<p>"He writes from Lower Brixton," said Mycroft Holmes. "Do you
not think that we might drive to him now, Sherlock, and learn
these particulars?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Better pick up Mr. Melas on our way," I suggested. "We may
need an interpreter."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"Can you tell me where?" asked Mycroft Holmes.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Did the gentleman give a name?"</p>

<p>"No, sir."</p>

<p>"He wasn't a tall, handsome, dark young man?"</p>

<p>"Oh, nor, 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."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"The windows are all dark," remarked the inspector. "The house
seems deserted."</p>

<p>"Our birds are flown and the nest empty," said Holmes.</p>

<p>"Why do you say so?"</p>

<p>"A carriage heavily loaded with luggage has passed out during
the last hour."</p>

<p>The inspector laughed. "I saw the wheel-tracks in the light of
the gate-lamp, but where does the luggage come in?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"I have a window open," said he.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"What is that?" asked Holmes, suddenly.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>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."</p>

<p>"It's charcoal," he cried. "Give it time. It will clear."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"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!"</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<hr>
<h3 align="Center">Adventure X</h3>

<h3 align="Center">The Naval Treaty</h3>

<p><br>
</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>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:</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>Your old school-fellow,</p>

<p>Percy Phelps.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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?"</p>

<p>I handed him the letter, which he read with the most
concentrated attention.</p>

<p>"It does not tell us very much, does it?" he remarked, as he
handed it back to me.</p>

<p>"Hardly anything."</p>

<p>"And yet the writing is of interest."</p>

<p>"But the writing is not his own."</p>

<p>"Precisely. It is a woman's."</p>

<p>"A man's surely," I cried.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"We have had no details yet," observed Holmes. "I perceive
that you are not yourself a member of the family."</p>

<p>Our acquaintance looked surprised, and then, glancing down, he
began to laugh.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"Shall I leave, Percy?" she asked.</p>

<p>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?"</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"'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?"</p>

<p>"'Yes, sir.'</p>

<p>"'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.'</p>

<p>"I took the papers and--"</p>

<p>"Excuse me an instant," said Holmes. "Were you alone during
this conversation?"</p>

<p>"Absolutely."</p>

<p>"In a large room?"</p>

<p>"Thirty feet each way."</p>

<p>"In the centre?"</p>

<p>"Yes, about it."</p>

<p>"And speaking low?"</p>

<p>"My uncle's voice is always remarkably low. I hardly spoke at
all."</p>

<p>"Thank you," said Holmes, shutting his eyes; "pray go on."</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Thank you. I think that I quite follow you," said Sherlock
Holmes.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"'Mr. Phelps, sir!' said he, looking at me in
bewilderment.</p>

<p>"'I came down to see if my coffee was ready.'</p>

<p>"'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.</p>

<p>"'If you was here, sir, then who rang the bell?' he asked.</p>

<p>"'The bell!' I cried. 'What bell is it?'</p>

<p>"'It's the bell of the room you were working in.'</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"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?"</p>

<p>"It is absolutely impossible. A rat could not conceal himself
either in the room or the corridor. There is no cover at
all."</p>

<p>"Thank you. Pray proceed."</p>

<p>"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 chines from a neighboring clock. It was
quarter to ten."</p>

<p>"That is of enormous importance," said Holmes, making a note
upon his shirt-cuff.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"'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?'</p>

<p>"'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.'</p>

<p>"'Ah, that is only my wife,' cried the commissionnaire; 'has
no one else passed?'</p>

<p>"'No one.'</p>

<p>"'Then it must be the other way that the thief took,' cried
the fellow, tugging at my sleeve.</p>

<p>"'But I was not satisfied, and the attempts which he made to
draw me away increased my suspicions.</p>

<p>"'Which way did the woman go?' I cried.</p>

<p>"'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.'</p>

<p>"'How long ago was it?'</p>

<p>"'Oh, not very many minutes.'</p>

<p>"'Within the last vie?'</p>

<p>"'Well, it could not be more than five.'</p>

<p>"'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.</p>

<p>"But I was after him in an instant and caught him by the
sleeve.</p>

<p>"'Where do you live?' said I.</p>

<p>"'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.'</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Had it been raining all evening?"</p>

<p>"Since about seven."</p>

<p>"How is it, then, that the woman who came into the room about
nine left no traces with her muddy boots?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"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?</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"How about the fireplace?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>""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?"</p>

<p>"There was nothing of the sort."</p>

<p>"No smell?"</p>

<p>"Well, we never thought of that."</p>

<p>"Ah, a scent of tobacco would have been worth a great deal to
us in such an investigation."</p>

<p>"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 our
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.</p>

<p>"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 hire 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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"'Why, if it isn't Mr. Phelps, of the office!' she cried.</p>

<p>"'Come, come, who did you think we were when you ran away from
us?' asked my companion.</p>

<p>"'I thought you were the brokers,' said she, 'we have had some
trouble with a tradesman.'</p>

<p>"'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.'</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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 is 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."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"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?"</p>

<p>"No one."</p>

<p>"Not Miss Harrison here, for example?"</p>

<p>"No. I had not been back to Woking between getting the order
and executing the commission."</p>

<p>"And none of your people had by chance been to see you?"</p>

<p>"None."</p>

<p>"Did any of them know their way about in the office?"</p>

<p>"Oh, yes, all of them had been shown over it."</p>

<p>"Still, of course, if you said nothing to any one about the
treaty these inquiries are irrelevant."</p>

<p>"I said nothing."</p>

<p>"Do you know anything of the commissionnaire?"</p>

<p>"Nothing except that he is an old soldier."</p>

<p>"What regiment?"</p>

<p>"Oh, I have heard--Coldstream Guards."</p>

<p>"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!"</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"Do you see any prospect of solving this mystery, Mr. Holmes?"
she asked, with a touch of asperity in her voice.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Do you see any clue?"</p>

<p>"You have furnished me with seven, but, of course, I must test
them before I can pronounce upon their value."</p>

<p>"You suspect some one?"</p>

<p>"I suspect myself."</p>

<p>"What!"</p>

<p>"Of coming to conclusions to rapidly."</p>

<p>"Then go to London and test your conclusions."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"I shall be in a fever until I see you again," cried the
diplomatist.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Ha! What did he say?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Well, that was reasonable and considerate," said Holmes.
"Come, Watson, for we have a goody day's work before us in
town."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>I thought he was joking, for the view was sordid enough, but
he soon explained himself.</p>

<p>"Look at those big, isolated clumps of building rising up
above the slates, like brick islands in a lead-colored sea."</p>

<p>"The board-schools."</p>

<p>"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?"</p>

<p>"I should not think so."</p>

<p>"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?"</p>

<p>"A girl of strong character."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"My practice--" I began.</p>

<p>"Oh, if you find your own cases more interesting than mine--"
said Holmes, with some asperity.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"You said you had a clue?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Lord Holdhurst!"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Not a statesman wit the honorable record of Lord
Holdhurst?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Already?"</p>

<p>"Yes, I sent wires from Woking station to every evening paper
in London. This advertisement will appear in each of them."</p>

<p>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."</p>

<p>"You are confident that the thief came in a cab?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"It sounds plausible."</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"What steps have you taken?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Have you shadowed her?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"I understand that they have had brokers in the house?"</p>

<p>"Yes, but they were paid off."</p>

<p>"Where did the money come from?"</p>

<p>"That was all right. His pension was due. They have not shown
any sign of being in funds."</p>

<p>"What explanation did she give of having answered the bell
when Mr. Phelps rang for the coffee?"</p>

<p>"She said that he husband was very tired and she wished to
relieve him."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"She was later than usual and wanted to get home."</p>

<p>"Did you point out to her that you and Mr. Phelps, who started
at least twenty minutes after he, got home before her?"</p>

<p>"She explains that by the difference between a 'bus and a
hansom."</p>

<p>"Did she make it clear why, on reaching her house, she ran
into the back kitchen?"</p>

<p>"Because she had the money there with which to pay off the
brokers."</p>

<p>"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?"</p>

<p>"She saw no one but the constable."</p>

<p>"Well, you seem to have cross-examined her pretty thoroughly.
What else have you done?"</p>

<p>"The clerk Gorot has been shadowed all these nine weeks, but
without result. We can show nothing against him."</p>

<p>"Anything else?"</p>

<p>"Well, we have nothing else to go upon--no evidence of any
kind."</p>

<p>"Have you formed a theory about how that bell rang?"</p>

<p>"Well, I must confess that it beats me. It was a cool hand,
whoever it was, to go and give the alarm like that."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Where are we going to now?" I asked, as we left the
office.</p>

<p>"We are now going to interview Lord Holdhurst, the cabinet
minister and future premier of England."</p>

<p>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 run 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.</p>

<p>"You 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 once occurrence in
these offices which could call for your attention. In whose
interest are you acting, may I ask?"</p>

<p>"In that of Mr. Percy Phelps," answered Holmes.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"But if the document if found?"</p>

<p>"Ah, that, of course, would be different."</p>

<p>"I had one or two questions which I wished to ask you, Lord
Holdhurst."</p>

<p>"I shall be happy to give you any information in my
power."</p>

<p>"Was it in this room that you gave your instructions as to the
copying of the document?"</p>

<p>"It was."</p>

<p>"Then you could hardly have been overheard?"</p>

<p>"It is out of the question."</p>

<p>"Did you ever mention to any one that it was your intention to
give any one the treaty to be copied?"</p>

<p>"Never."</p>

<p>"You are certain of that?"</p>

<p>"Absolutely."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>The statesman smiled. "You take me out of my province there,"
said he.</p>

<p>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."</p>

<p>A shadow passed over the expressive face of the statesman.
"Very grave results indeed."</p>

<p>"Any have they occurred?"</p>

<p>"Not yet."</p>

<p>"If the treaty had reached, let us say, the French or Russian
Foreign Office, you would expect to hear of it?"</p>

<p>"I should," said Lord Holdhurst, with a wry face.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>Lord Holdhurst shrugged his shoulders.</p>

<p>"We can hardly suppose, Mr. Holmes, that the thief took the
treaty in order to frame it and hang it up."</p>

<p>"Perhaps he is waiting for a better price."</p>

<p>"If he waits a little longer he will get no price at all. The
treaty will cease to be secret in a few months."</p>

<p>"That is most important," said Holmes. "Of course, it is a
possible supposition that the thief has had a sudden
illness--"</p>

<p>"An attack of brain-fever, for example?" asked the statesman,
flashing a swift glance at him.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Every success to your investigation, be the criminal who it
may," answered the nobleman, as he bowed us out the door.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"Any news?" he asked, eagerly.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"You have not lost heart, then?"</p>

<p>"By no means."</p>

<p>"God bless you for saying that!" cried Miss Harrison. "If we
keep our courage and our patience the truth must come out."</p>

<p>"We have more to tell you than you have for us," said Phelps,
reseating himself upon the couch.</p>

<p>"I hoped you might have something."</p>

<p>"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?"</p>

<p>"Ah!" cried Holmes.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Pray let me hear it."</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"This is most interesting," said Holmes. "Pray what did you do
then?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"Misfortunes never come single," said Phelps, smiling, though
it was evident that his adventure had somewhat shaken him.</p>

<p>"You have certainly had your share," said Holmes. "Do you
think you could walk round the house with me?"</p>

<p>"Oh, yes, I should like a little sunshine. Joseph will come,
too."</p>

<p>"And I also," said Miss Harrison.</p>

<p>"I am afraid not," said Holmes, shaking his head. "I think I
must ask you to remain sitting exactly where you are."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"They are more visible from the road," suggested Mr. Joseph
Harrison.</p>

<p>"Ah, yes, of course. There is a door here which he might have
attempted. What is it for?"</p>

<p>"It is the side entrance for trades-people. Of course it is
locked at night."</p>

<p>"Have you ever had an alarm like this before?"</p>

<p>"Never," said our client.</p>

<p>"Do you keep plate in the house, or anything to attract
burglars?"</p>

<p>"Nothing of value."</p>

<p>Holmes strolled round the house with his hands in his pockets
and a negligent air which was unusual with him.</p>

<p>"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!"</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"Do you think that was done last night? It looks rather old,
does it not?"</p>

<p>"Well, possibly so."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Certainly, if you wish it, Mr. Holmes," said the girl in
astonishment.</p>

<p>"When you go to bed lock the door of this room on the outside
and keep the key. Promise to do this."</p>

<p>"But Percy?"</p>

<p>"He will come to London with us."</p>

<p>"And am I to remain here?"</p>

<p>"It is for his sake. You can serve him. Quick! Promise!"</p>

<p>She gave a quick nod of assent just as the other two came
up.</p>

<p>"Why do you sit moping there, Annie?" cried her brother. "Come
out into the sunshine!"</p>

<p>"No, thank you, Joseph. I have a slight headache and this room
is deliciously cool and soothing."</p>

<p>"What do you propose now, Mr. Holmes?" asked our client.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"At once?"</p>

<p>"Well, as soon as you conveniently can. Say in an hour."</p>

<p>"I feel quite strong enough, if I can really be of any
help."</p>

<p>"The greatest possible."</p>

<p>"Perhaps you would like me the stay there to-night?"</p>

<p>"I was just going to propose it."</p>

<p>"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 wit us so as to look after me?"</p>

<p>"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 al three set off for town
together."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"But how about our investigation in London?" asked Phelps,
ruefully.</p>

<p>"We can do that to-morrow. I think that just at present I can
be of more immediate use here."</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"I hardly expect to go back to Briarbrae," answered Holmes,
and waved his hand to us cheerily as we shot out from the
station.</p>

<p>Phelps and I talked it over on our journey, but neither of us
could devise a satisfactory reason for this new development.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"What is your own idea, then?"</p>

<p>"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?"</p>

<p>"You are sure it was not a house-breaker's jimmy?"</p>

<p>"Oh, no, it was a knife. I saw the flash of the blade quite
distinctly."</p>

<p>"But why on earth should you be pursued with such
animosity?"</p>

<p>"Ah, that is the question."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"But Holmes said that he was not going to Briarbrae."</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"You have implicit faith in Holmes?" he asked.</p>

<p>"I have seen him do some remarkable things."</p>

<p>"But he never brought light into anything quite so dark as
this?"</p>

<p>"Oh, yes; I have known him solve questions which presented
fewer clues than yours."</p>

<p>"But not where such large interests are at stake?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"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?"</p>

<p>"He has said nothing."</p>

<p>"That is a bad sign."</p>

<p>"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 matter 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."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"He'll be here when he promised," said I, "and not an instant
sooner or later."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"He looks like a beaten man," cried Phelps.</p>

<p>I was forced to confess that he was right. "After all," said
I, "the clue of the matter lies probably here in town."</p>

<p>Phelps gave a groan.</p>

<p>"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?"</p>

<p>"You are not wounded, Holmes?" I asked, as my friend entered
the room.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"I feared that you would find it beyond you."</p>

<p>"It has been a most remarkable experience."</p>

<p>"That bandage tells of adventures," said I. "Won't you tell us
what has happened?"</p>

<p>"After breakfast, my dear Watson. Remember that I have
breathed thirty mile 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."</p>

<p>The table was all laid, and just as I was about to ring Mrs.
Hudson entered wit 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.</p>

<p>"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?"</p>

<p>"Ham and eggs," I answered.</p>

<p>"Good! What are you going to take, Mr. Phelps--curried fowl or
eggs, or will you help yourself?"</p>

<p>"Thank you. I can eat nothing," said Phelps.</p>

<p>"Oh, come! Try the dish before you."</p>

<p>"Thank you, I would really rather not."</p>

<p>"Well, then," said Holmes, with a mischievous twinkle, "I
suppose that you have no objection to helping me?"</p>

<p>Phelps raised the cover, and as hi 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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>Phelps seized his hand and kissed it. "God bless you!" he
cried. "You have saved my honor."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>Phelps thrust away the precious document into the innermost
pocket of his coat.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Surely the gate was open!" ejaculated Phelps.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"I heard her shut the door, and felt quite sure that she had
turned the key in the lock."</p>

<p>"The key!" ejaculated Phelps.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Joseph!" ejaculated Phelps.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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 grass 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.</p>

<p>"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?"</p>

<p>"So it was."</p>

<p>"And Joseph! Joseph a villain and a thief!"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>Percy Phelps sank back in his chair. "My head whirls," said
he. "Your words have dazed me."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"How blind I have been!"</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"I remember."</p>

<p>"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?"</p>

<p>"Why did he try the window on the first occasion," I asked,
"when he might have entered by the door?"</p>

<p>"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?"</p>

<p>"You do not think," asked Phelps, "that he had any murderous
intention? The knife was only meant as a tool."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<hr>
<h3 align="Center">Adventure XI</h3>

<h3 align="Center">The Final Problem</h3>

<p><br>
 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 sow,
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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"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?"</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"You are afraid of something?" I asked.</p>

<p>"Well, I am."</p>

<p>"Of what?"</p>

<p>"Of air-guns."</p>

<p>"My dear Holmes, what do you mean?"</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"But what does it all mean?" I asked.</p>

<p>He held out his hand, and I saw in the light of the lamp that
two of his knuckles were burst and bleeding.</p>

<p>"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?"</p>

<p>"She is away upon a visit."</p>

<p>"Indeed! You are alone?"</p>

<p>"Quite."</p>

<p>"Then it makes it the easier for me to propose that you should
come away with me for a week to the Continent."</p>

<p>"Where?"</p>

<p>"Oh, anywhere. It's all the same to me."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"You have probably never heard of Professor Moriarty?" said
he.</p>

<p>"Never."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"What has he done, then?"</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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 it 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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"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 thresh-hold. 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.</p>

<p>"'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.'</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"'You evidently don't now me,' said he.</p>

<p>"'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.'</p>

<p>"'All that I have to say has already crossed your mind,' said
he.</p>

<p>"'Then possibly my answer has crossed yours,' I replied.</p>

<p>"'You stand fast?'</p>

<p>"'Absolutely.'</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"'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.'</p>

<p>"'Have you any suggestion to make?' I asked.</p>

<p>"'You must drop it, Mr. Holmes,' said he, swaying his face
about. 'You really must, you know.'</p>

<p>"'After Monday,' said I.</p>

<p>"'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. 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.'</p>

<p>"'Danger is part of my trade,' I remarked.</p>

<p>"'That is not danger,' said he. 'It is inevitable destruction.
You stand in the way not merely of an individual, but of a might
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.'</p>

<p>"'I am afraid,' said I, rising, 'that in the pleasure of this
conversation I am neglecting business of importance which awaits
me elsewhere.'</p>

<p>"He rose also and looked at me in silence, shaking his head
sadly.</p>

<p>"'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.'</p>

<p>"'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.'</p>

<p>"'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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"You have already been assaulted?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"You will spend the night here?" I said.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"The practice is quiet," said I, "and I have an accommodating
neighbor. I should be glad to come."</p>

<p>"And to start to-morrow morning?"</p>

<p>"If necessary."</p>

<p>"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 despatch 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."</p>

<p>"Where shall I meet you?"</p>

<p>"At the station. The second first-class carriage from the
front will be reserved for us."</p>

<p>"The carriage is our rendezvous, then?"</p>

<p>"Yes."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>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--</p>

<p>"My dear Watson," said a voice, "you have not even
condescended to say good-morning."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"Good heavens!" I cried; "how you startled me!"</p>

<p>"Every precaution is still necessary," he whispered. "I have
reason to think that they are hot upon our trail. Ah, there is
Moriarty himself."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"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.</p>

<p>"Have you seen the morning paper, Watson?"</p>

<p>"No."</p>

<p>"You haven't' seen about Baker Street, then?"</p>

<p>"Baker Street?"</p>

<p>"They set fire to our rooms last night. No great harm was
done."</p>

<p>"Good heavens, Holmes! this is intolerable."</p>

<p>"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?"</p>

<p>"I did exactly what you advised."</p>

<p>"Did you find your brougham?"</p>

<p>"Yes, it was waiting."</p>

<p>"Did you recognize your coachman?"</p>

<p>"No."</p>

<p>"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 plant what we are to do about Moriarty now."</p>

<p>"As this is an express, and as the boat runs in connection
with it, I should think we have shaken him off very
effectively."</p>

<p>"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?"</p>

<p>"What will he do?"</p>

<p>"What I should do?"</p>

<p>"What would you do, then?"</p>

<p>"Engage a special."</p>

<p>"But it must be late."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"One would think that we were the criminals. Let us have him
arrested on his arrival."</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"What then?"</p>

<p>"We shall get out at Canterbury."</p>

<p>"And then?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>At Canterbury, therefore, we alighted, only to find that we
should have to wait an hour before we could get a train to
Newhaven.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"Already, you see," said he.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"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-ma&amp;icirc;tre
had he deduced what I would deduce and acted accordingly."</p>

<p>"And what would he have done had he overtaken us?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"I might have known it!" he groaned. "He has escaped!"</p>

<p>"Moriarty?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>"Why?"</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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-&amp;agrave;-manger arguing the question for half an hour, but
the same night we had resumed our journey and were well on our
way to Geneva.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>"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."</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>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 cam booming up
with the spray out of the abyss.</p>

<p>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, and 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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>I could see his black figure clearly outlined against the
green behind him. I noted him, and the energy wit which he walked
but he passed from my mind again as I hurried on upon my
errand.</p>

<p>It may have been a little over an hour before I reached
Meiringen. Old Steiler was standing at the porch of his
hotel.</p>

<p>"Well," said I, as I came hurrying up, "I trust that she is no
worse?"</p>

<p>a look of surprise passed over his face, and at the first
quiver of his eyebrows my heart turned to lead in my breast.</p>

<p>"You did not write this?" I said, pulling the letter from my
pocket. "There is no sick Englishwoman in the hotel?"</p>

<p>"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--"</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>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?</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>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,</p>

<p>Very sincerely yours,</p>

<p>Sherlock Holmes</p>

<p>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.</p>

<p>End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Memoirs of Sherlock
Holmes</p>
</body>
</html>
generated by cgit v1.2.3 (git 2.25.1) at 2026-02-20 00:26:39 +0000