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\title{His Last Bow}


\author{Sir Arthur Conan Doyle}

\maketitle
\vspace*{\stretch{1}}

\noindent This public-domain (U.S.) text was prepared principally
by David Brannan of Woodbridge, Virginia. The individual stories comprise
Project Gutenberg texts {}``wstra10'', {}``crdbd10'', {}``rcrcl10'',
{}``bplan10'', {}``dydet10'', {}``lcrfx10'', {}``dvlft10'',
and {}``lstbw10''. The Preface was taken from www.bibliomania.com.
These various pieces have been rejoined, converted to \LaTeX{} using
\textbf{GutenMark} software, and modified (to correct formatting problems,
and various typos) by Ron Burkey. Report problems to info@sandroid.org.

\begin{description}
\item [B~12/13/02]Proofing completed.
\item [C~12/30/02]The original \emph{Strand Magazine} illustrations were
added. These were obtained from bakerstreet221b.de. The illustrators
are listed with the various stories. The frontispiece is by Gilbert
Halliday.
\item [D~01/30/08]{}``----'' was everywhere replaced by {}``---''.
The names of the illustrators were repaired in two cases: the frontispiece,
and the first illustration of {}``The Adventure of the Red Circle''.
\end{description}
\vspace{\stretch{1}}

\frontmatter


\pagestyle{myheadings} \tableofcontents{}\vspace*{\stretch{1}}

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\noindent \begin{center}\noun{Beside it sat the dead man, leaning
back in his chair. ({}``The Devil's Foot'')}\end{center}

\begin{center}\emph{\footnotesize (Illustration by Gilbert Halliday)}\end{center}
\end{figure}


\vspace{\stretch{1}}

\mainmatter


\chapter*{\raggedright{}Preface}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{Preface}

\markboth{His Last Bow}{Preface}

The friends of Mr Sherlock Holmes will be glad to learn that he is
still alive and well, though somewhat crippled by occasional attacks
of rheumatism. He has, for many years, lived in a small farm upon
the Downs five miles from Eastbourne, where his time is divided between
philosophy and agriculture. During this period of rest he has refused
the most princely offers to take up various cases, having determined
that his retirement was a permanent one.\  The approach of the German
war caused him, however, to lay his remarkable combination of intellectual
and practical activity at the disposal of the Government, with historical
results which are recounted in `His Last Bow'. Several previous experiences
which have lain long in my portfolio, have been added to `His Last
Bow'\ so as to complete the volume.

\begin{flushright}\noun{John H.\ Watson, MD}\end{flushright}


\chapter*{\raggedright The Adventure of Wisteria Lodge\protect \\
{\large Illustrations by Arthur Twidle}}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{The Adventure of Wisteria Lodge}

\markboth{His Last Bow}{The Adventure of Wisteria Lodge}


\section*{1. The Singular Experience of Mr.\ John Scott Eccles}

I find it recorded in my notebook that it was a bleak and windy day
towards the end of March in the year 1892. Holmes had received a telegram
while we sat at our lunch, and he had scribbled a reply. He made no
remark, but the matter remained in his thoughts, for he stood in front
of the fire afterwards with a thoughtful face, smoking his pipe, and
casting an occasional glance at the message. Suddenly he turned upon
me with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

{}``I suppose, Watson, we must look upon you as a man of letters,''
said he. {}``How do you define the word `grotesque'?''

{}``Strange\mdsh{---}remarkable,''\ I suggested.

He shook his head at my definition.

{}``There is surely something more than that,''\ said he; {}``some
underlying suggestion of the tragic and the terrible. If you cast
your mind back to some of those narratives with which you have afflicted
a long-suffering public, you will recognize how often the grotesque
has deepened into the criminal. Think of that little affair of the
red-headed men. That was grotesque enough in the outset, and yet it
ended in a desperate attempt at robbery. Or, again, there was that
most grotesque affair of the five orange pips, which let straight
to a murderous conspiracy. The word puts me on the alert.''

{}``Have you it there?''\ I asked.

He read the telegram aloud.

\begin{quotation}
\noindent \noun{{}``Have just had most incredible and grotesque
experience. May I consult you?}

\hspace{\stretch{1}}\noun{{}``Scott Eccles,}

\hspace{\stretch{1}}\noun{{}``Post Office,}

\hspace{\stretch{1}}\noun{{}``Charing Cross.''}
\end{quotation}
{}``Man or woman?''\ I asked.

{}``Oh, man, of course. No woman would ever send a reply-paid telegram.
She would have come.''

{}``Will you see him?''

{}``My dear Watson, you know how bored I have been since we locked
up Colonel Carruthers. My mind is like a racing engine, tearing itself
to pieces because it is not connected up with the work for which it
was built. Life is commonplace, the papers are sterile; audacity and
romance seem to have passed forever from the criminal world. Can you
ask me, then, whether I am ready to look into any new problem, however
trivial it may prove? But here, unless I am mistaken, is our client.''

A measured step was heard upon the stairs, and a moment later a stout,
tall, gray-whiskered and solemnly respectable person was ushered into
the room. His life history was written in his heavy features and pompous
manner. From his spats to his gold-rimmed spectacles he was a Conservative,
a churchman, a good citizen, orthodox and conventional to the last
degree. But some amazing experience had disturbed his native composure
and left its traces in his bristling hair, his flushed, angry cheeks,
and his flurried, excited manner. He plunged instantly into his business.

{}``I have had a most singular and unpleasant experience, Mr.\ Holmes,''\ said
he. {}``Never in my life have I been placed in such a situation.
It is most improper\mdsh{---}most outrageous. I must insist upon
some explanation.'' He swelled and puffed in his anger.

{}``Pray sit down, Mr.\ Scott Eccles,''\ said Holmes in a soothing
voice. {}``May I ask, in the first place, why you came to me at all?''

{}``Well, sir, it did not appear to be a matter which concerned the
police, and yet, when you have heard the facts, you must admit that
I could not leave it where it was. Private detectives are a class
with whom I have absolutely no sympathy, but none the less, having
heard your name\mdsh{---}''

{}``Quite so. But, in the second place, why did you not come at once?''

Holmes glanced at his watch.

{}``It is a quarter-past two,''\ he said. {}``Your telegram was
dispatched about one. But no one can glance at your toilet and attire
without seeing that your disturbance dates from the moment of your
waking.''

Our client smoothed down his unbrushed hair and felt his unshaven
chin.

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-wist-01.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{{}``But I have been running round
making inquiries before I came to you.''}\end{center}
\end{figure}
{}``You are right, Mr.\ Holmes. I never gave a thought to my toilet.
I was only too glad to get out of such a house. But I have been running
round making inquiries before I came to you. I went to the house agents,
you know, and they said that Mr.\ Garcia's rent was paid up all right
and that everything was in order at Wisteria Lodge.''

{}``Come, come, sir,''\ said Holmes, laughing. {}``You are like
my friend, Dr.\ Watson, who has a bad habit of telling his stories
wrong end foremost. Please arrange your thoughts and let me know,
in their due sequence, exactly what those events are which have sent
you out unbrushed and unkempt, with dress boots and waistcoat buttoned
awry, in search of advice and assistance.''

Our client looked down with a rueful face at his own unconventional
appearance.

{}``I'm sure it must look very bad, Mr.\ Holmes, and I am not aware
that in my whole life such a thing has ever happened before. But will
tell you the whole queer business, and when I have done so you will
admit, I am sure, that there has been enough to excuse me.''

But his narrative was nipped in the bud. There was a bustle outside,
and Mrs.\ Hudson opened the door to usher in two robust and official-looking
individuals, one of whom was well known to us as Inspector Gregson
of Scotland Yard, an energetic, gallant, and, within his limitations,
a capable officer. He shook hands with Holmes and introduced his comrade
as Inspector Baynes, of the Surrey Constabulary.

{}``We are hunting together, Mr.\ Holmes, and our trail lay in this
direction.'' He turned his bulldog eyes upon our visitor. {}``Are
you Mr.\ John Scott Eccles, of Popham House, Lee?''

{}``I am.''

{}``We have been following you about all the morning.''

{}``You traced him through the telegram, no doubt,''\ said Holmes.

{}``Exactly, Mr.\ Holmes. We picked up the scent at Charing Cross
Post-Office and came on here.''

{}``But why do you follow me? What do you want?''

{}``We wish a statement, Mr.\ Scott Eccles, as to the events which
let up to the death last night of Mr.\ Aloysius Garcia, of Wisteria
Lodge, near Esher.''

Our client had sat up with staring eyes and every tinge of colour
struck from his astonished face.

{}``Dead? Did you say he was dead?''

{}``Yes, sir, he is dead.''

{}``But how? An accident?''

{}``Murder, if ever there was one upon earth.''

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-wist-02.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{{}``This is awful! You don't mean\mbox{----}you
don't mean that I am suspected?''}\end{center}
\end{figure}
{}``Good God! This is awful! You don't mean\mdsh{---}you don't
mean that I am suspected?''

{}``A letter of yours was found in the dead man's pocket, and we
know by it that you had planned to pass last night at his house.''

{}``So I did.''

{}``Oh, you did, did you?''

Out came the official notebook.

{}``Wait a bit, Gregson,''\ said Sherlock Holmes. {}``All you
desire is a plain statement, is it not?''

{}``And it is my duty to warn Mr.\ Scott Eccles that it may be used
against him.''

{}``Mr.\ Eccles was going to tell us about it when you entered the
room. I think, Watson, a brandy and soda would do him no harm. Now,
sir, I suggest that you take no notice of this addition to your audience,
and that you proceed with your narrative exactly as you would have
done had you never been interrupted.''

Our visitor had gulped off the brandy and the colour had returned
to his face. With a dubious glance at the inspector's notebook, he
plunged at once into his extraordinary statement.

{}``I am a bachelor,''\ said he, {}``and being of a sociable turn
I cultivate a large number of friends. Among these are the family
of a retired brewer called Melville, living at Abermarle Mansion,
Kensington. It was at his table that I met some weeks ago a young
fellow named Garcia. He was, I understood, of Spanish descent and
connected in some way with the embassy. He spoke perfect English,
was pleasing in his manners, and as good-looking a man as ever I saw
in my life.

{}``In some way we struck up quite a friendship, this young fellow
and I.\  He seemed to take a fancy to me from the first, and within
two days of our meeting he came to see me at Lee. One thing led to
another, and it ended in his inviting me out to spend a few days at
his house, Wisteria Lodge, between Esher and Oxshott. Yesterday evening
I went to Esher to fulfil this engagement.

{}``He had described his household to me before I went there. He
lived with a faithful servant, a countryman of his own, who looked
after all his needs. This fellow could speak English and did his housekeeping
for him. Then there was a wonderful cook, he said, a half-breed whom
he had picked up in his travels, who could serve an excellent dinner.
I remember that he remarked what a queer household it was to find
in the heart of Surrey, and that I agreed with him, though it has
proved a good deal queerer than I thought.

{}``I drove to the place\mdsh{---}about two miles on the south
side of Esher. The house was a fair-sized one, standing back from
the road, with a curving drive which was banked with high evergreen
shrubs. It was an old, tumbledown building in a crazy state of disrepair.
When the trap pulled up on the grass-grown drive in front of the blotched
and weather-stained door, I had doubts as to my wisdom in visiting
a man whom I knew so slightly. He opened the door himself, however,
and greeted me with a great show of cordiality. I was handed over
to the manservant, a melancholy, swarthy individual, who led the way,
my bag in his hand, to my bedroom. The whole place was depressing.
Our dinner was \emph{t\^{e}te-\`{a}-t\^{e}te}, and though my host
did his best to be entertaining, his thoughts seemed to continually
wander, and he talked so vaguely and wildly that I could hardly understand
him. He continually drummed his fingers on the table, gnawed his nails,
and gave other signs of nervous impatience. The dinner itself was
neither well served nor well cooked, and the gloomy presence of the
taciturn servant did not help to enliven us. I can assure you that
many times in the course of the evening I wished that I could invent
some excuse which would take me back to Lee.

{}``One thing comes back to my memory which may have a bearing upon
the business that you two gentlemen are investigating. I thought nothing
of it at the time. Near the end of dinner a note was handed in by
the servant. I noticed that after my host had read it he seemed even
more distrait and strange than before. He gave up all pretence at
conversation and sat, smoking endless cigarettes, lost in his own
thoughts, but he made no remark as to the contents. About eleven I
was glad to go to bed. Some time later Garcia looked in at my door\mdsh{---}the
room was dark at the time--and asked me if I had rung. I said that
I had not. He apologized for having disturbed me so late, saying that
it was nearly one o'clock. I dropped off after this and slept soundly
all night.

{}``And now I come to the amazing part of my tale. When I woke it
was broad daylight. I glanced at my watch, and the time was nearly
nine. I had particularly asked to be called at eight, so I was very
much astonished at this forgetfulness. I sprang up and rang for the
servant. There was no response. I rang again and again, with the same
result. Then I came to the conclusion that the bell was out of order.
I huddled on my clothes and hurried downstairs in an exceedingly bad
temper to order some hot water. You can imagine my surprise when I
found that there was no one there. I shouted in the hall. There was
no answer. Then I ran from room to room. All were deserted. My host
had shown me which was his bedroom the night before, so I knocked
at the door. No reply. I turned the handle and walked in. The room
was empty, and the bed had never been slept in. He had gone with the
rest. The foreign host, the foreign footman, the foreign cook, all
had vanished in the night! That was the end of my visit to Wisteria
Lodge.''

Sherlock Holmes was rubbing his hands and chuckling as he added this
bizarre incident to his collection of strange episodes.

{}``Your experience is, so far as I know, perfectly unique,''\ said
he. {}``May I ask, sir, what you did then?''

{}``I was furious. My first idea was that I had been the victim of
some absurd practical joke. I packed my things, banged the hall door
behind me, and set off for Esher, with my bag in my hand. I called
at Allan Brothers', the chief land agents in the village, and found
that it was from this firm that the villa had been rented. It struck
me that the whole proceeding could hardly be for the purpose of making
a fool of me, and that the \textit{\emph{main}} \emph{}\textit{\emph{object}}
must be to get out of the rent. It is late in March, so quarter-day
is at hand. But this theory would not work. The agent was obliged
to me for my warning, but told me that the rent had been paid in advance.
Then I made my way to town and called at the Spanish embassy. The
man was unknown there. After this I went to see Melville, at whose
house I had first met Garcia, but I found that he really knew rather
less about him than I did. Finally when I got your reply to my wire
I came out to you, since I gather that you are a person who gives
advice in difficult cases. But now, Mr.\ Inspector, I understand,
from what you said when you entered the room, that you can carry the
story on, and that some tragedy had occurred. I can assure you that
every word I have said is the truth, and that, outside of what I have
told you, I know absolutely nothing about the fate of this man. My
only desire is to help the law in every possible way.''

{}``I am sure of it, Mr.\ Scott Eccles\mdsh{---}I am sure of it,''\ said
Inspector Gregson in a very amiable tone. {}``I am bound to say that
everything which you have said agrees very closely with the facts
as they have come to our notice. For example, there was that note
which arrived during dinner. Did you chance to observe what became
of it?''

{}``Yes, I did. Garcia rolled it up and threw it into the fire.''

{}``What do you say to that, Mr.\ Baynes?''

The country detective was a stout, puffy, red man, whose face was
only redeemed from grossness by two extraordinarily bright eyes, almost
hidden behind the heavy creases of cheek and brow. With a slow smile
he drew a folded and discoloured scrap of paper from his pocket.

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-wist-03.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{{}``I picked this paper out unburned
from the back of it.''}\end{center}
\end{figure}
{}``It was a dog-grate, Mr.\ Holmes, and he overpitched it. I picked
this out unburned from the back of it.''

Holmes smiled his appreciation.

{}``You must have examined the house very carefully to find a single
pellet of paper.''

{}``I did, Mr.\ Holmes. It's my way. Shall I read it, Mr.\ Gregson?''

The Londoner nodded.

{}``The note is written upon ordinary cream-laid paper without watermark.
It is a quarter-sheet. The paper is cut off in two snips with a short-bladed
scissors. It has been folded over three times and sealed with purple
wax, put on hurriedly and pressed down with some flat oval object.
It is addressed to Mr.\ Garcia, Wisteria Lodge. It says:\ 

\begin{quote}
{}``Our own colours, green and white. Green open, white shut. Main
stair, first corridor, seventh right, green baize. Godspeed. D.
\end{quote}
{}``It is a woman's writing, done with a sharp-pointed pen, but the
address is either done with another pen or by someone else. It is
thicker and bolder, as you see.''

{}``A very remarkable note,''\ said Holmes, glancing it over. {}``I
must compliment you, Mr.\ Baynes, upon your attention to detail in
your examination of it. A few trifling points might perhaps be added.
The oval seal is undoubtedly a plain sleeve-link\mdsh{---}what else
is of such a shape? The scissors were bent nail scissors. Short as
the two snips are, you can distinctly see the same slight curve in
each.''

The country detective chuckled.

{}``I thought I had squeezed all the juice out of it, but I see there
was a little over,''\ he said. {}``I'm bound to say that I make
nothing of the note except that there was something on hand, and that
a woman, as usual was at the bottom of it.''

Mr.\ Scott Eccles had fidgeted in his seat during this conversation.

{}``I am glad you found the note, since it corroborates my story,''
said he. {}``But I beg to point out that I have not yet heard what
has happened to Mr.\ Garcia, nor what has become of his household.''

{}``As to Garcia,''\ said Gregson, {}``that is easily answered.
He was found dead this morning upon Oxshott Common, nearly a mile
from his home. His head had been smashed to pulp by heavy blows of
a sandbag or some such instrument, which had crushed rather than wounded.
It is a lonely corner, and there is no house within a quarter of a
mile of the spot. He had apparently been struck down first from behind,
but his assailant had gone on beating him long after he was dead.
It was a most furious assault. There are no footsteps nor any clue
to the criminals.''

{}``Robbed?''

{}``No, there was no attempt at robbery.''

{}``This is very painful\mdsh{---}very painful and terrible,''\ said
Mr.\ Scott Eccles in a querulous voice, {}``but it is really uncommonly
hard on me. I had nothing to do with my host going off upon a nocturnal
excursion and meeting so sad an end. How do I come to be mixed up
with the case?''

{}``Very simply, sir,''\ Inspector Baynes answered. {}``The only
document found in the pocket of the deceased was a letter from you
saying that you would be with him on the night of his death. It was
the envelope of this letter which gave us the dead man's name and
address. It was after nine this morning when we reached his house
and found neither you nor anyone else inside it. I wired to Mr.\ Gregson
to run you down in London while I examined Wisteria Lodge. Then I
came into town, joined Mr.\ Gregson, and here we are.''

{}``I think now,''\ said Gregson, rising, {}``we had best put
this matter into an official shape. You will come round with us to
the station, Mr.\ Scott Eccles, and let us have your statement in
writing.''

{}``Certainly, I will come at once. But I retain your services, Mr.\ Holmes.
I desire you to spare no expense and no pains to get at the truth.''

My friend turned to the country inspector.

{}``I suppose that you have no objection to my collaborating with
you, Mr.\ Baynes?''

{}``Highly honoured, sir, I am sure.''

{}``You appear to have been very prompt and businesslike in all that
you have done. Was there any clue, may I ask, as to the exact hour
that the man met his death?''

{}``He had been there since one o'clock. There was rain about that
time, and his death had certainly been before the rain.''

{}``But that is perfectly impossible, Mr.\ Baynes,''\ cried our
client. {}``His voice is unmistakable. I could swear to it that it
was he who addressed me in my bedroom at that very hour.''

{}``Remarkable, but by no means impossible,''\ said Holmes, smiling.

{}``You have a clue?''\ asked Gregson.

{}``On the face of it the case is not a very complex one, though
it certainly presents some novel and interesting features. A further
knowledge of facts is necessary before I would venture to give a final
and definite opinion. By the way, Mr.\ Baynes, did you find anything
remarkable besides this note in your examination of the house?''

The detective looked at my friend in a singular way.

{}``There were,''\ said he, {}``one or two \textit{very} remarkable
things. Perhaps when I have finished at the police-station you would
care to come out and give me your opinion of them.''

{}``I am entirely at your service,''\ said Sherlock Holmes, ringing
the bell. {}``You will show these gentlemen out, Mrs.\ Hudson, and
kindly send the boy with this telegram. He is to pay a five-shilling
reply.''

We sat for some time in silence after our visitors had left. Holmes
smoked hard, with his brows drawn down over his keen eyes, and his
head thrust forward in the eager way characteristic of the man.

{}``Well, Watson,''\ he asked, turning suddenly upon me, {}``what
do you make of it?''

{}``I can make nothing of this mystification of Scott Eccles.''

{}``But the crime?''

{}``Well, taken with the disappearance of the man's companions, I
should say that they were in some way concerned in the murder and
had fled from justice.''

{}``That is certainly a possible point of view. On the face of it
you must admit, however, that it is very strange that his two servants
should have been in a conspiracy against him and should have attacked
him on the one night when he had a guest. They had him alone at their
mercy every other night in the week.''

{}``Then why did they fly?''

{}``Quite so. Why did they fly? There is a big fact. Another big
fact is the remarkable experience of our client, Scott Eccles. Now,
my dear Watson, is it beyond the limits of human ingenuity to furnish
an explanation which would cover both of these big facts? If it were
one which would also admit of the mysterious note with its very curious
phraseology, why, then it would be worth accepting as a temporary
hypothesis. If the fresh facts which come to our knowledge all fit
themselves into the scheme, then our hypothesis may gradually become
a solution.''

{}``But what is our hypothesis?''

Holmes leaned back in his chair with half-closed eyes.

{}``You must admit, my dear Watson, that the idea of a joke is impossible.
There were grave events afoot, as the sequel showed, and the coaxing
of Scott Eccles to Wisteria Lodge had some connection with them.''

{}``But what possible connection?''

{}``Let us take it link by link. There is, on the face of it, something
unnatural about this strange and sudden friendship between the young
Spaniard and Scott Eccles. It was the former who forced the pace.
He called upon Eccles at the other end of London on the very day after
he first met him, and he kept in close touch with him until he got
him down to Esher. Now, what did he want with Eccles? What could Eccles
supply? I see no charm in the man. He is not particulary intelligent\mdsh{---}not
a man likely to be congenial to a quick-witted Latin. Why, then, was
he picked out from all the other people whom Garcia met as particularly
suited to his purpose? Has he any one outstanding quality? I say that
he has. He is the very type of conventional British respectability,
and the very man as a witness to impress another Briton. You saw yourself
how neither of the inspectors dreamed of questioning his statement,
extraordinary as it was.''

{}``But what was he to witness?''

{}``Nothing, as things turned out, but everything had they gone another
way. That is how I read the matter.''

{}``I see, he might have proved an alibi.''

{}``Exactly, my dear Watson; he might have proved an alibi. We will
suppose, for argument's sake, that the household of Wisteria Lodge
are confederates in some design. The attempt, whatever it may be,
is to come off, we will say, before one o'clock. By some juggling
of the clocks it is quite possible that they may have got Scott Eccles
to bed earlier than he thought, but in any case it is likely that
when Garcia went out of his way to tell him that it was one it was
really not more than twelve. If Garcia could do whatever he had to
do and be back by the hour mentioned he had evidently a powerful reply
to any accusation. Here was this irreproachable Englishman ready to
swear in any court of law that the accused was in the house all the
time. It was an insurance against the worst.''

{}``Yes, yes, I see that. But how about the disappearance of the
others?''

{}``I have not all my facts yet, but I do not think there are any
insuperable difficulties. Still, it is an error to argue in front
of your data. You find yourself insensibly twisting them round to
fit your theories.''

{}``And the message?''

{}``How did it run? `Our own colours, green and white.' Sounds like
racing. `Green open, white shut.' That is clearly a signal. `Main
stair, first corridor, seventh right, green baize.' This is an assignation.
We may find a jealous husband at the bottom of it all. It was clearly
a dangerous quest. She would not have said `Godspeed'\ had it not
been so. `D'\mdsh{---}that should be a guide.''

{}``The man was a Spaniard. I suggest that `D'\ stands for Dolores,
a common female name in Spain.''

{}``Good, Watson, very good\mdsh{---}but quite inadmissable. A
Spaniard would write to a Spaniard in Spanish. The writer of this
note is certainly English. Well, we can only possess our soul in patience
until this excellent inspector come back for us. Meanwhile we can
thank our lucky fate which has rescued us for a few short hours from
the insufferable fatigues of idleness.''

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-wist-04.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{He tossed it across with a laugh.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
An answer had arrived to Holmes's telegram before our Surrey officer
had returned. Holmes read it and was about to place it in his notebook
when he caught a glimpse of my expectant face. He tossed it across
with a laugh.

{}``We are moving in exalted circles,''\ said he.

The telegram was a list of names and addresses:\ 

\begin{quote}
\noun{Lord Harringby, The Dingle; Sir George Ffolliott, Oxshott
Towers; Mr.\ Hynes Hynes, J.P., Purdley Place; Mr.\ James Baker
Williams, Forton Old Hall; Mr.\ Henderson, High Gable; Rev.\ Joshua
Stone, Nether Walsling.}
\end{quote}
{}

{}``This is a very obvious way of limiting our field of operations,''
said Holmes. {}``No doubt Baynes, with his methodical mind, has already
adopted some similar plan.''

{}``I don't quite understand.''

{}``Well, my dear fellow, we have already arrived at the conclusion
that the message received by Garcia at dinner was an appointment or
an assignation. Now, if the obvious reading of it is correct, and
in order to keep the tryst one has to ascend a main stair and seek
the seventh door in a corridor, it is perfectly clear that the house
is a very large one. It is equally certain that this house cannot
be more than a mile or two from Oxshott, since Garcia was walking
in that direction and hoped, according to my reading of the facts,
to be back in Wisteria Lodge in time to avail himself of an alibi,
which would only be valid up to one o'clock. As the number of large
houses close to Oxshott must be limited, I adopted the obvious method
of sending to the agents mentioned by Scott Eccles and obtaining a
list of them. Here they are in this telegram, and the other end of
our tangled skein must lie among them.''

\bigskip{}
It was nearly six o'clock before we found ourselves in the pretty
Surrey village of Esher, with Inspector Baynes as our companion.

Holmes and I had taken things for the night, and found comfortable
quarters at the Bull. Finally we set out in the company of the detective
on our visit to Wisteria Lodge. It was a cold, dark March evening,
with a sharp wind and a fine rain beating upon our faces, a fit setting
for the wild common over which our road passed and the tragic goal
to which it led us.


\section*{2. The Tiger of San Pedro}

A cold and melancholy walk of a couple of miles brought us to a high
wooden gate, which opened into a gloomy avenue of chestnuts. The curved
and shadowed drive led us to a low, dark house, pitch-black against
a slate-coloured sky. From the front window upon the left of the door
there peeped a glimmer of a feeble light.

{}``There's a constable in possession,''\ said Baynes. {}``I'll
knock at the window.'' He stepped across the grass plot and tapped
with his hand on the pane. Through the fogged glass I dimly saw a
man spring up from a chair beside the fire, and heard a sharp cry
from within the room. An instant later a white-faced, hard-breathing
policeman had opened the door, the candle wavering in his trembling
hand.

{}``What's the matter, Walters?''\ asked Baynes sharply.

The man mopped his forehead with his handkerchief and gave a long
sigh of relief.

{}``I am glad you have come, sir. It has been a long evening, and
I don't think my nerve is as good as it was.''

{}``Your nerve, Walters? I should not have thought you had a nerve
in your body.''

{}``Well, sir, it's this lonely, silent house and the queer thing
in the kitchen. Then when you tapped at the window I thought it had
come again.''

{}``That what had come again?''

{}``The devil, sir, for all I know. It was at the window.''

{}``What was at the window, and when?''

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-wist-05.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{{}``There was a face looking in at
me through the lower pane.''}\end{center}
\end{figure}
{}``It was just about two hours ago. The light was just fading. I
was sitting reading in the chair. I don't know what made me look up,
but there was a face looking in at me through the lower pane. Lord,
sir, what a face it was! I'll see it in my dreams.''

{}``Tut, tut, Walters. This is not talk for a police-constable.''

{}``I know, sir, I know; but it shook me, sir, and there's no use
to deny it. It wasn't black, sir, nor was it white, nor any colour
that I know but a kind of queer shade like clay with a splash of milk
in it. Then there was the size of it\mdsh{---}it was twice yours,
sir. And the look of it\mdsh{---}the great staring goggle eyes,
and the line of white teeth like a hungry beast. I tell you, sir,
I couldn't move a finger, nor get my breath, till it whisked away
and was gone. Out I ran and through the shrubbery, but thank God there
was no one there.''

{}``If I didn't know you were a good man, Walters, I should put a
black mark against you for this. If it were the devil himself a constable
on duty should never thank God that he could not lay his hands upon
him. I suppose the whole thing is not a vision and a touch of nerves?''

{}``That, at least, is very easily settled,''\ said Holmes, lighting
his little pocket lantern. {}``Yes,''\ he reported, after a short
examination of the grass bed, {}``a number twelve shoe, I should
say. If he was all on the same scale as his foot he must certainly
have been a giant.''

{}``What became of him?''

{}``He seems to have broken through the shrubbery and made for the
road.''

{}``Well,''\ said the inspector with a grave and thoughtful face,
{}``whoever he may have been, and whatever he may have wanted, he's
gone for the present, and we have more immediate things to attend
to. Now, Mr.\ Holmes, with your permission, I will show you round
the house.''

The various bedrooms and sitting-rooms had yielded nothing to a careful
search. Apparently the tenants had brought little or nothing with
them, and all the furniture down to the smallest details had been
taken over with the house. A good deal of clothing with the stamp
of Marx and Co., High Holborn, had been left behind. Telegraphic inquiries
had been already made which showed that Marx knew nothing of his customer
save that he was a good payer. Odds and ends, some pipes, a few novels,
two of them in Spanish, and old-fashioned pinfire revolver, and a
guitar were among the personal property.

{}``Nothing in all this,''\ said Baynes, stalking, candle in hand,
from room to room. {}``But now, Mr.\ Holmes, I invite your attention
to the kitchen.''

It was a gloomy, high-ceilinged room at the back of the house, with
a straw litter in one corner, which served apparently as a bed for
the cook. The table was piled with half-eaten dishes and dirty plates,
the debris of last night's dinner.

{}``Look at this,''\ said Baynes. {}``What do you make of it?''

He held up his candle before an extraordinary object which stood at
the back of the dresser. It was so wrinkled and shrunken and withered
that it was difficult to say what it might have been. One could but
say that it was black and leathery and that it bore some resemblance
to a dwarfish, human figure. At first, as I examined it, I thought
that it was a mummified \textit{\emph{negro}} \emph{}\textit{\emph{baby}},
and then it seemed a very twisted and ancient monkey. Finally I was
left in doubt as to whether it was animal or human. A double band
of white shells were strung round the centre of it.

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-wist-06.jpg}\end{center}

\begin{center}\noun{{}``Very interesting, indeed!''\ said Holmes.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
{}``Very interesting\mdsh{---}very interesting, indeed!''\ said
Holmes, peering at this sinister relic. {}``Anything more?''

In silence Baynes led the way to the sink and held forward his candle.
The limbs and body of some large, white bird, torn savagely to pieces
with the feathers still on, were littered all over it. Holmes pointed
to the wattles on the severed head.

{}``A white cock,''\ said he. {}``Most interesting! It is really
a very curious case.''

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-wist-07.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{He drew a zinc pail from under the
sink.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
But Mr.\ Baynes had kept his most sinister exhibit to the last. From
under the sink he drew a zinc pail which contained a quantity of blood.
Then from the table he took a platter heaped with small pieces of
charred bone.

{}``Something has been killed and something has been burned. We raked
all these out of the fire. We had a doctor in this morning. He says
that they are not human.''

Holmes smiled and rubbed his hands.

{}``I must congratulate you, Inspector, on handling so distinctive
and instructive a case. Your powers, if I may say so without offence,
seem superior to your opportunities.''

Inspector Baynes's small eyes twinkled with pleasure.

{}``You're right, Mr.\ Holmes. We stagnate in the provinces. A case
of this sort gives a man a chance, and I hope that I shall take it.
What do you make of these bones?''

{}``A lamb, I should say, or a kid.''

{}``And the white cock?''

{}``Curious, Mr.\ Baynes, very curious. I should say almost unique.''

{}``Yes, sir, there must have been some very strange people with
some very strange ways in this house. One of them is dead. Did his
companions follow him and kill him? If they did we should have them,
for every port is watched. But my own views are different. Yes, sir,
my own views are very different.''

{}``You have a theory then?''

{}``And I'll work it myself, Mr.\ Holmes. It's only due to my own
credit to do so. Your name is made, but I have still to make mine.
I should be glad to be able to say afterwards that I had solved it
without your help.''

Holmes laughed good-humoredly.

{}``Well, well, Inspector,''\ said he. {}``Do you follow your
path and I will follow mine. My results are always very much at your
service if you care to apply to me for them. I think that I have seen
all that I wish in this house, and that my time may be more profitably
employed elsewhere. \emph{Au revoir} and good luck!''

I could tell by numerous subtle signs, which might have been lost
upon anyone but myself, that Holmes was on a hot scent. As impassive
as ever to the casual observer, there were none the less a subdued
eagerness and suggestion of tension in his brightened eyes and brisker
manner which assured me that the game was afoot. After his habit he
said nothing, and after mine I asked no questions. Sufficient for
me to share the sport and lend my humble help to the capture without
distracting that intent brain with needless interruption. All would
come round to me in due time.

I waited, therefore\mdsh{---}but to my ever-deepening disappointment
I waited in vain. Day succeeded day, and my friend took no step forward.
One morning he spent in town, and I learned from a casual reference
that he had visited the British Museum. Save for this one excursion,
he spent his days in long and often solitary walks, or in chatting
with a number of village gossips whose acquaintance he had cultivated.

{}``I'm sure, Watson, a week in the country will be invaluable to
you,''\ he remarked. {}``It is very pleasant to see the first green
shoots upon the hedges and the catkins on the hazels once again. With
a spud, a tin box, and an elementary book on botany, there are instructive
days to be spent.'' He prowled about with this equipment himself,
but it was a poor show of plants which he would bring back of an evening.

Occasionally in our rambles we came across Inspector Baynes. His fat,
red face wreathed itself in smiles and his small eyes glittered as
he greeted my companion. He said little about the case, but from that
little we gathered that he also was not dissatisfied at the course
of events. I must admit, however, that I was somewhat surprised when,
some five days after the crime, I opened my morning paper to find
in large letters:\ 

\noindent \begin{center}\textit{\emph{\noun{\Large The}}} \emph{\noun{\Large }}\textit{\emph{\noun{\Large Oxshott}}}
\emph{\noun{\Large }}\textit{\emph{\noun{\Large Mystery}}}\\
\emph{\noun{\large A}} \textit{\emph{\noun{\large Solution}}}\\
\textit{\emph{\noun{Arrest}}} \emph{\noun{}}\textit{\emph{\noun{of}}}
\emph{\noun{}}\textit{\emph{\noun{Supposed}}} \emph{\noun{}}\textit{\emph{\noun{Assassin}}}\end{center}

Holmes sprang in his chair as if he had been stung when I read the
headlines.

{}``By Jove!''\ he cried. {}``You don't mean that Baynes has got
him?''

{}``Apparently,''\ said I as I read the following report:\ 

\begin{quote}
{}``Great excitement was caused in Esher and the neighbouring district
when it was learned late last night that an arrest had been effected
in connection with the Oxshott murder. It will be remembered that
Mr.\ Garcia, of Wisteria Lodge, was found dead on Oxshott Common,
his body showing signs of extreme violence, and that on the same night
his servant and his cook fled, which appeared to show their participation
in the crime. It was suggested, but never proved, that the deceased
gentleman may have had valuables in the house, and that their abstraction
was the motive of the crime. Every effort was made by Inspector Baynes,
who has the case in hand, to ascertain the hiding place of the fugitives,
and he had good reason to believe that they had not gone far but were
lurking in some retreat which had been already prepared. It was certain
from the first, however, that they would eventually be detected, as
the cook, from the evidence of one or two tradespeople who have caught
a glimpse of him through the window, was a man of most remarkable
appearance\mdsh{---}being a huge and hideous mulatto, with yellowish
features of a pronounced negroid type. This man has been seen since
the crime, for he was detected and pursued by Constable Walters on
the same evening, when he had the audacity to revisit Wisteria Lodge.
Inspector Baynes, considering that such a visit must have some purpose
in view and was likely, therefore, to be repeated, abandoned the house
but left an ambuscade in the shrubbery. %
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics{lstbwetc-wist-08.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{The man walked into the trap and was
captured.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
The man walked into the trap and was captured last night after a struggle
in which Constable Downing was badly bitten by the savage. We understand
that when the prisoner is brought before the magistrates a remand
will be applied for by the police, and that great developments are
hoped from his capture.''
\end{quote}
{}

{}``Really we must see Baynes at once,''\ cried Holmes, picking
up his hat. {}``We will just catch him before he starts.'' We hurried
down the village street and found, as we had expected, that the inspector
was just leaving his lodgings.

{}``You've seen the paper, Mr.\ Holmes?''\ he asked, holding one
out to us.

{}``Yes, Baynes, I've seen it. Pray don't think it a liberty if I
give you a word of friendly warning.''

{}``Of warning, Mr.\ Holmes?''

{}``I have looked into this case with some care, and I am not convinced
that you are on the right lines. I don't want you to commit yourself
too far unless you are sure.''

{}``You're very kind, Mr.\ Holmes.''

{}``I assure you I speak for your good.''

It seemed to me that something like a wink quivered for an instant
over one of Mr.\ Baynes's tiny eyes.

{}``We agreed to work on our own lines, Mr.\ Holmes. That's what
I am doing.''

{}``Oh, very good,''\ said Holmes. {}``Don't blame me.''

{}``No, sir; I believe you mean well by me. But we all have our own
systems, Mr.\ Holmes. You have yours, and maybe I have mine.''

{}``Let us say no more about it.''

{}``You're welcome always to my news. This fellow is a perfect savage,
as strong as a cart-horse and as fierce as the devil. He chewed Downing's
thumb nearly off before they could master him. He hardly speaks a
word of English, and we can get nothing out of him but grunts.''

{}``And you think you have evidence that he murdered his late master?''

{}``I didn't say so, Mr.\ Holmes; I didn't say so. We all have our
little ways. You try yours and I will try mine. That's the agreement.''

Holmes shrugged his shoulders as we walked away together. {}``I can't
make the man out. He seems to be riding for a fall. Well, as he says,
we must each try our own way and see what comes of it. But there's
something in Inspector Baynes which I can't quite understand.''
\bigskip{}

{}``Just sit down in that chair, Watson,''\ said Sherlock Holmes
when we had returned to our apartment at the Bull. {}``I want to
put you in touch with the situation, as I may need your help to-night.
Let me show you the evolution of this case so far as I have been able
to follow it. Simple as it has been in its leading features, it has
none the less presented surprising difficulties in the way of an arrest.
There are gaps in that direction which we have still to fill.

{}``We will go back to the note which was handed in to Garcia upon
the evening of his death. We may put aside this idea of Baynes's that
Garcia's servants were concerned in the matter. The proof of this
lies in the fact that it was \textit{he} who had arranged for the
presence of Scott Eccles, which could only have been done for the
purpose of an alibi. It was Garcia, then, who had an enterprise, and
apparently a criminal enterprise, in hand that night in the course
of which he met his death. I say `criminal'\ because only a man with
a criminal enterprise desires to establish an alibi. Who, then, is
most likely to have taken his life? Surely the person against whom
the criminal enterprise was directed. So far it seems to me that we
are on safe ground.

{}``We can now see a reason for the disappearance of Garcia's household.
They were \textit{all} confederates in the same unknown crime. If
it came off when Garcia returned, any possible suspicion would be
warded off by the Englishman's evidence, and all would be well. But
the attempt was a dangerous one, and if Garcia did \textit{not} return
by a certain hour it was probable that his own life had been sacrificed.
It had been arranged, therefore, that in such a case his two subordinates
were to make for some prearranged spot where they could escape investigation
and be in a position afterwards to renew their attempt. That would
fully explain the facts, would it not?''

The whole inexplicable tangle seemed to straighten out before me.
I wondered, as I always did, how it had not been obvious to me before.

{}``But why should one servant return?''

{}``We can imagine that in the confusion of flight something precious,
something which he could not bear to part with, had been left behind.
That would explain his persistence, would it not?''

{}``Well, what is the next step?''

{}``The next step is the note received by Garcia at the dinner. It
indicates a confederate at the other end. Now, where was the other
end? I have already shown you that it could only lie in some large
house, and that the number of large houses is limited. My first days
in this village were devoted to a series of walks in which in the
intervals of my botanical researches I made a reconnaissance of all
the large houses and an examination of the family history of the occupants.
One house, and only one, riveted my attention. It is the famous old
Jacobean grange of High Gable, one mile on the farther side of Oxshott,
and less than half a mile from the scene of the tragedy. The other
mansions belonged to prosaic and respectable people who live far aloof
from romance. But Mr.\ Henderson, of High Gable, was by all accounts
a curious man to whom curious adventures might befall. I concentrated
my attention, therefore, upon him and his household.

{}``A singular set of people, Watson\mdsh{---}the man himself the
most singular of them all. I managed to see him on a plausible pretext,
but I seemed to read in his dark, deepset, brooding eyes that he was
perfectly aware of my true business. He is a man of fifty, strong,
active, with iron-gray hair, great bunched black eyebrows, the step
of a deer and the air of an emperor\mdsh{---}a fierce, masterful
man, with a red-hot spirit behind his parchment face. He is either
a foreigner or has lived long in the tropics, for he is yellow and
sapless, but tough as whipcord. His friend and secretary, Mr.\ Lucas,
is undoubtedly a foreigner, chocolate brown, wily, suave, and catlike,
with a poisonous gentleness of speech. You see, Watson, we have come
already upon two sets of foreigners\mdsh{---}one at Wisteria Lodge
and one at High Gable\mdsh{---}so our gaps are beginning to close.

{}``These two men, close and confidential friends, are the centre
of the household; but there is one other person who for our immediate
purpose may be even more important. Henderson has two children\mdsh{---}girls
of eleven and thirteen. Their governess is a Miss Burnet, an Englishwoman
of forty or thereabouts. There is also one confidential manservant.
This little group forms the real family, for they travel about together,
and Henderson is a great traveller, always on the move. It is only
within the last weeks that he has returned, after a year's absence,
to High Gable. I may add that he is enormously rich, and whatever
his whims may be he can very easily satisfy them. For the rest, his
house is full of butlers, footmen, maidservants, and the usual overfed,
underworked staff of a large English country house.

{}``So much I learned partly from village gossip and partly from
my own observation. There are no better instruments than discharged
servants with a grievance, and I was lucky enough to find one. I call
it luck, but it would not have come my way had I not been looking
out for it. As Baynes remarks, we all have our systems. It was my
system which enabled me to find John Warner, late gardener of High
Gable, sacked in a moment of temper by his imperious employer. He
in turn had friends among the indoor servants who unite in their fear
and dislike of their master. So I had my key to the secrets of the
establishment.

{}``Curious people, Watson! I don't pretend to understand it all
yet, but very curious people anyway. It's a double-winged house, and
the servants live on one side, the family on the other. There's no
link between the two save for Henderson's own servant, who serves
the family's meals. Everything is carried to a certain door, which
forms the one connection. Governess and children hardly go out at
all, except into the garden. Henderson never by any chance walks alone.
His dark secretary is like his shadow. The gossip among the servants
is that their master is terribly afraid of something. `Sold his soul
to the devil in exchange for money,'\ says Warner, `and expects his
creditor to come up and claim his own.' Where they came from, or who
they are, nobody has an idea. They are very violent. Twice Henderson
has lashed at folk with his dog-whip, and only his long purse and
heavy compensation have kept him out of the courts.

{}``Well, now, Watson, let us judge the situation by this new information.
We may take it that the letter came out of this strange household
and was an invitation to Garcia to carry out some attempt which had
already been planned. Who wrote the note? It was someone within the
citadel, and it was a woman. Who then but Miss Burnet, the governess?
All our reasoning seems to point that way. At any rate, we may take
it \textit{\emph{as a}} hypothesis and see what consequences it would
entail. I may add that Miss Burnet's age and character make it certain
that my first idea that there might be a love interest in our story
is out of the question.

{}``If she wrote the note she was presumably the friend and confederate
of Garcia. What, then, might she be expected to do if she heard of
his death? If he met it in some nefarious enterprise her lips might
be sealed. Still, in her heart, she must retain bitterness and hatred
against those who had killed him and would presumably help so far
as she could to have revenge upon them. Could we see her, then and
try to use her? That was my first thought. But now we come to a sinister
fact. Miss Burnet has not been seen by any human eye since the night
of the murder. From that evening she has utterly vanished. Is she
alive? Has she perhaps met her end on the same night as the friend
whom she had summoned? Or is she merely a prisoner? There is the point
which we still have to decide.

{}``You will appreciate the difficulty of the situation, Watson.
There is nothing upon which we can apply for a warrant. Our whole
scheme might seem fantastic if laid before a magistrate. The woman's
disappearance counts for nothing, since in that extraordinary household
any member of it might be invisible for a week. And yet she may at
the present moment be in danger of her life. All I can do is to watch
the house and leave my agent, Warner, on guard at the gates. We can't
let such a situation continue. If the law can do nothing we must take
the risk ourselves.''

{}``What do you suggest?''

{}``I know which is her room. It is accessible from the top of an
outhouse. My suggestion is that you and I go to-night and see if we
can strike at the very heart of the mystery.''

It was not, I must confess, a very alluring prospect. The old house
with its atmosphere of murder, the singular and formidable inhabitants,
the unknown dangers of the approach, and the fact that we were putting
ourselves legally in a false position all combined to damp my ardour.
But there was something in the ice-cold reasoning of Holmes which
made it impossible to shrink from any adventure which he might recommend.
One knew that thus, and only thus, could a solution be found. I clasped
his hand in silence, and the die was cast.

But it was not destined that our investigation should have so adventurous
an ending. It was about five o'clock, and the shadows of the March
evening were beginning to fall, when an excited rustic rushed into
our room.

{}``They've gone, Mr.\ Holmes. They went by the last train. The
lady broke away, and I've got her in a cab downstairs.''

{}``Excellent, Warner!''\ cried Holmes, springing to his feet.
{}``Watson, the gaps are closing rapidly.''

In the cab was a woman, half-collapsed from nervous exhaustion. She
bore upon her aquiline and emaciated face the traces of some recent
tragedy. Her head hung listlessly upon her breast, but as she raised
it and turned her dull eyes upon us I saw that her pupils were dark
dots in the centre of the broad gray iris. She was drugged with opium.

{}``I watched at the gate, same as you advised, Mr.\ Holmes,''\ said
our emissary, the discharged gardener. {}``When the carriage came
out I followed it to the station. She was like one walking in her
sleep, but when they tried to get her into the train she came to life
and struggled. %
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-wist-09.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{She fought her way out again.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
They pushed her into the carriage. She fought her way out again. I
took her part, got her into a cab, and here we are. I shan't forget
the face at the carriage window as I led her away. I'd have a short
life if he had his way\mdsh{---}the black-eyed, scowling, yellow
devil.''

We carried her upstairs, laid her on the sofa, and a couple of cups
of the strongest coffee soon cleared her brain from the mists of the
drug. Baynes had been summoned by Holmes, and the situation rapidly
explained to him.

{}``Why, sir, you've got me the very evidence I want,''\ said the
inspector warmly, shaking my friend by the hand. {}``I was on the
same scent as you from the first.''

{}``What! You were after Henderson?''

{}``Why, Mr.\ Holmes, when you were crawling in the shrubbery at
High Gable I was up one of the trees in the plantation and saw you
down below. It was just who would get his evidence first.''

{}``Then why did you arrest the mulatto?''

Baynes chuckled.

{}``I was sure Henderson, as he calls himself, felt that he was suspected,
and that he would lie low and make no move so long as he thought he
was in any danger. I arrested the wrong man to make him believe that
our eyes were off him. I knew he would be likely to clear off then
and give us a chance of getting at Miss Burnet.''

Holmes laid his hand upon the inspector's shoulder.

{}``You will rise high in your profession. You have instinct and
intuition,''\ said he.

Baynes flushed with pleasure.

{}``I've had a plain-clothes man waiting at the station all the week.
Wherever the High Gable folk go he will keep them in sight. But he
must have been hard put to it when Miss Burnet broke away. However,
your man picked her up, and it all ends well. We can't arrest without
her evidence, that is clear, so the sooner we get a statement the
better.''

{}``Every minute she gets stronger,''\ said Holmes, glancing at
the governess. {}``But tell me, Baynes, who is this man Henderson?''

{}``Henderson,''\ the inspector answered, {}``is Don Murillo,
once call the Tiger of San Pedro.''

The Tiger of San Pedro! The whole history of the man came back to
me in a flash. He had made his name as the most lewd and bloodthirsty
tyrant that had ever governed any country with a pretence to civilization.
Strong, fearless, and energetic, he had sufficient virtue to enable
him to impose his odious vices upon a cowering people for ten or twelve
years. His name was a terror through all Central America. At the end
of that time there was a universal rising against him. But he was
as cunning as he was cruel, and at the first whisper of coming trouble
he had secretly conveyed his treasures aboard a ship which was manned
by devoted adherents. It was an empty palace which was stormed by
the insurgents next day. The dictator, his two children, his secretary,
and his wealth had all escaped them. $>$From that moment he had vanished
from the world, and his identity had been a frequent subject for comment
in the European press.

{}``Yes, sir, Don Murillo, the Tiger of San Pedro,''\ said Baynes.
{}``If you look it up you will find that the San Pedro colours are
green and white, same as in the note, Mr.\ Holmes. Henderson he called
himself, but I traced him back, Paris and Rome and Madrid to Barcelona,
where his ship came in in '86. They've been looking for him all the
time for their revenge, but it is only now that they have begun to
find him out.''

{}``They discovered him a year ago,''\ said Miss Burnet, who had
sat up and was now intently following the conversation. {}``Once
already his life has been attempted, but some evil spirit shielded
him. Now, again, it is the noble, chivalrous Garcia who has fallen,
while the monster goes safe. But another will come, and yet another,
until some day justice will be done; that is as certain as the rise
of to-morrow's sun.'' Her thin hands clenched, and her worn face
blanched with the passion of her hatred.

{}``But how come you into this matter, Miss Burnet?''\ asked Holmes.
{}``How can an English lady join in such a murderous affair?''

{}``I join in it because there is no other way in the world by which
justice can be gained. What does the law of England care for the rivers
of blood shed years ago in San Pedro, or for the shipload of treasure
which this man has stolen? To you they are like crimes committed in
some other planet. But \textit{we} know. We have learned the truth
in sorrow and in suffering. To us there is no fiend in hell like Juan
Murillo, and no peace in life while his victims still cry for vengeance.''

{}``No doubt,''\ said Holmes, {}``he was as you say. I have heard
that he was atrocious. But how are you affected?''

{}``I will tell you it all. This villain's policy was to murder,
on one pretext or another, every man who showed such promise that
he might in time come to be a dangerous rival. My husband\mdsh{---}yes,
my real name is Signora Victor Durando\mdsh{---}was the San Pedro
minister in London. He met me and married me there. A nobler man never
lived upon earth. Unhappily, Murillo heard of his excellence, recalled
him on some pretext, and had him shot. With a premonition of his fate
he had refused to take me with him. His estates were confiscated,
and I was left with a pittance and a broken heart.

{}``Then came the downfall of the tyrant. He escaped as you have
just described. But the many whose lives he had ruined, whose nearest
and dearest had suffered torture and death at his hands, would not
let the matter rest. They banded themselves into a society which should
never be dissolved until the work was done. It was my part after we
had discovered in the transformed Henderson the fallen despot, to
attach myself to his household and keep the others in touch with his
movements. This I was able to do by securing the position of governess
in his family. He little knew that the woman who faced him at every
meal was the woman whose husband he had hurried at an hour's notice
into eternity. I smiled on him, did my duty to his children, and bided
my time. An attempt was made in Paris and failed. We zig-zagged swiftly
here and there over Europe to throw off the pursuers and finally returned
to this house, which he had taken upon his first arrival in England.

{}``But here also the ministers of justice were waiting. Knowing
that he would return there, Garcia, who is the son of the former highest
dignitary in San Pedro, was waiting with two trusty companions of
humble station, all three fired with the same reasons for revenge.
He could do little during the day, for Murillo took every precaution
and never went out save with his satellite Lucas, or Lopez as he was
known in the days of his greatness. At night, however, he slept alone,
and the avenger might find him. On a certain evening, which had been
prearranged, I sent my friend final instructions, for the man was
forever on the alert and continually changed his room. I was to see
that the doors were open and the signal of a green or white light
in a window which faced the drive was to give notice if all was safe
or if the attempt had better be postponed.

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-wist-10.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{He and his master dragged me to my
room.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
{}``But everything went wrong with us. In some way I had excited
the suspicion of Lopez, the secretary. He crept up behind me and sprang
upon me just as I had finished the note. He and his master dragged
me to my room and held judgment upon me as a convicted traitress.
Then and there they would have plunged their knives into me could
they have seen how to escape the consequences of the deed. Finally,
after much debate, they concluded that my murder was too dangerous.
But they determined to get rid forever of Garcia. They had gagged
me, and Murillo twisted my arm round until I gave him the address.
I swear that he might have twisted it off had I understood what it
would mean to Garcia. Lopez addressed the note which I had written,
sealed it with his sleeve-link, and sent it by the hand of the servant,
Jose. How they murdered him I do not know, save that it was Murillo's
hand who struck him down, for Lopez had remained to guard me. I believe
he must have waited among the gorse bushes through which the path
winds and struck him down as he passed. At first they were of a mind
to let him enter the house and to kill him as a detected burglar;
but they argued that if they were mixed up in an inquiry their own
identity would at once be publicly disclosed and they would be open
to further attacks. With the death of Garcia, the pursuit might cease,
since such a death might frighten others from the task.

{}``All would now have been well for them had it not been for my
knowledge of what they had done. I have no doubt that there were times
when my life hung in the balance. I was confined to my room, terrorized
by the most horrible threats, cruelly ill-used to break my spirit\mdsh{---}see
this stab on my shoulder and the bruises from end to end of my arms\mdsh{---}and
a gag was thrust into my mouth on the one occasion when I tried to
call from the window. For five days this cruel imprisonment continued,
with hardly enough food to hold body and soul together. This afternoon
a good lunch was brought me, but the moment after I took it I knew
that I had been drugged. In a sort of dream I remember being half-led,
half-carried to the carriage; in the same state I was conveyed to
the train. Only then, when the wheels were almost moving, did I suddenly
realize that my liberty lay in my own hands. I sprang out, they tried
to drag me back, and had it not been for the help of this good man,
who led me to the cab, I should never had broken away. Now, thank
God, I am beyond their power forever.''

We had all listened intently to this remarkable statement. It was
Holmes who broke the silence.

{}``Our difficulties are not over,''\ he remarked, shaking his
head. {}``Our police work ends, but our legal work begins.''

{}``Exactly,''\ said I. {}``A plausible lawyer could make it out
as an act of self-defence. There may be a hundred crimes in the background,
but it is only on this one that they can be tried.''

{}``Come, come,''\ said Baynes cheerily, {}``I think better of
the law than that. Self-defence is one thing. To entice a man in cold
blood with the object of murdering him is another, whatever danger
you may fear from him. No, no, we shall all be justified when we see
the tenants of High Gable at the next Guildford Assizes.''

It is a matter of history, however, that a little time was still to
elapse before the Tiger of San Pedro should meet with his deserts.
Wily and bold, he and his companion threw their pursuer off their
track by entering a lodging-house in Edmonton Street and leaving by
the back-gate into Curzon Square. From that day they were seen no
more in England. Some six months afterwards the Marquess of Montalva
and Signor Rulli, his secretary, were both murdered in their rooms
at the Hotel Escurial at Madrid. The crime was ascribed to Nihilism,
and the murderers were never arrested. Inspector Baynes visited us
at Baker Street with a printed description of the dark face of the
secretary, and of the masterful features, the magnetic black eyes,
and the tufted brows of his master. We could not doubt that justice,
if belated, had come at last.

{}``A chaotic case, my dear Watson,''\ said Holmes over an evening
pipe. {}``It will not be possible for you to present in that compact
form which is dear to your heart. It covers two continents, concerns
two groups of mysterious persons, and is further complicated by the
highly respectable presence of our friend, Scott Eccles, whose inclusion
shows me that the deceased Garcia had a scheming mind and a well-developed
instinct of self-preservation. It is remarkable only for the fact
that amid a perfect jungle of possibilities we, with our worthy collaborator,
the inspector, have kept our close hold on the essentials and so been
guided along the crooked and winding path. Is there any point which
is not quite clear to you?''

{}``The object of the mulatto cook's return?''

{}``I think that the strange creature in the kitchen may account
for it. The man was a primitive savage from the backwoods of San Pedro,
and this was his fetish. When his companion and he had fled to some
prearranged retreat\mdsh{---}already occupied, no doubt by a confederate\mdsh{---}the
companion had persuaded him to leave so compromising an article of
furniture. But the mulatto's heart was with it, and he was driven
back to it next day, when, on reconnoitering through the window, he
found policeman Walters in possession. He waited three days longer,
and then his piety or his superstition drove him to try once more.
Inspector Baynes, who, with his usual astuteness, had minimized the
incident before me, had really recognized its importance and had left
a trap into which the creature walked. Any other point, Watson?''

{}``The torn bird, the pail of blood, the charred bones, all the
mystery of that weird kitchen?''

Holmes smiled as he turned up an entry in his note-book.

{}``I spent a morning in the British Museum reading up on that and
other points. Here is a quotation from Eckermann's Voodooism and the
Negroid Religions:\ 

\begin{quote}
{}```The true voodoo-worshipper attempts nothing of importance without
certain sacrifices which are intended to propitiate his unclean gods.
In extreme cases these rites take the form of human sacrifices followed
by cannibalism. The more usual victims are a white cock, which is
plucked in pieces alive, or a black goat, whose throat is cut and
body burned.'
\end{quote}
{}``So you see our savage friend was very orthodox in his ritual.
It is grotesque, Watson,''\ Holmes added, as he slowly fastened
his notebook, {}``but, as I have had occasion to remark, there is
but one step from the grotesque to the horrible.''


\chapter*{\raggedright The Adventure of the Cardboard Box\protect \\
{\large Illustrations by Sidney Paget}}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{The Adventure of the Cardboard Box}

\markboth{His Last Bow}{The Adventure of the Cardboard Box}

In choosing a few typical cases which illustrate the remarkable mental
qualities of my friend, Sherlock Holmes, I have endeavoured, as far
as possible, to select those which presented the minimum of sensationalism,
while offering a fair field for his talents. It is, however, unfortunately
impossible entirely to separate the sensational from the criminal,
and a chronicler is left in the dilemma that he must either sacrifice
details which are essential to his statement and so give a false impression
of the problem, or he must use matter which chance, and not choice,
has provided him with. With this short preface I shall turn to my
notes of what proved to be a strange, though a peculiarly terrible,
chain of events.

It was a blazing hot day in August. Baker Street was like an oven,
and the glare of the sunlight upon the yellow brickwork of the house
across the road was painful to the eye. It was hard to believe that
these were the same walls which loomed so gloomily through the fogs
of winter. Our blinds were half-drawn, and Holmes lay curled upon
the sofa, reading and re-reading a letter which he had received by
the morning post. For myself, my term of service in India had trained
me to stand heat better than cold, and a thermometer at ninety was
no hardship. But the morning 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 center of five millions of people, with
his filaments stretching out and running through them, responsive
to every little rumour 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.

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-card-01.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{I fell into a brown study.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
Finding that Holmes was too absorbed for conversation I had tossed
aside the barren paper, and leaning back in my chair I fell into a
brown study. Suddenly my companion's voice broke in upon my thoughts:\ 

{}``You are right, Watson,''\ said he. {}``It does seem a most
preposterous way of settling a dispute.''

{}``Most preposterous!''\ I exclaimed, and then suddenly realizing
how he had echoed the inmost thought of my soul, I sat up in my chair
and stared at him in blank amazement.

{}``What is this, Holmes?''\ I cried. {}``This is beyond anything
which I could have imagined.''

He laughed heartily at my perplexity.

{}``You remember,''\ said he, {}``that some little time ago when
I read you the passage in one of Poe's sketches in which a close reasoner
follows the unspoken thoughts of his companion, you were inclined
to treat the matter as a mere \emph{tour-de-force} of the author.
On my remarking that I was constantly in the habit of doing the same
thing you expressed incredulity.''

{}``Oh, no!''

{}``Perhaps not with your tongue, my dear Watson, but certainly with
your eyebrows. So when I saw you throw down your paper and enter upon
a train of thought, I was very happy to have the opportunity of reading
it off, and eventually of breaking into it, as a proof that I had
been in rapport with you.''

But I was still far from satisfied. {}``In the example which you
read to me,''\ said I, {}``the reasoner drew his conclusions from
the actions of the man whom he observed. If I remember right, he stumbled
over a heap of stones, looked up at the stars, and so on. But I have
been seated quietly in my chair, and what clues can I have given you?''

{}``You do yourself an injustice. The features are given to man as
the means by which he shall express his emotions, and yours are faithful
servants.''

{}``Do you mean to say that you read my train of thoughts from my
features?''

{}``Your features and especially your eyes. Perhaps you cannot yourself
recall how your reverie commenced?''

{}``No, I cannot.''

{}``Then I will tell you. After throwing down your paper, which was
the action which drew my attention to you, you sat for half a minute
with a vacant expression. Then your eyes fixed themselves upon your
newly framed picture of General Gordon, and I saw by the alteration
in your face that a train of thought had been started. But it did
not lead very far. Your eyes flashed across tho the unframed portrait
of Henry Ward Beecher which stands upon the top of your books. Then
you 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 there.''

{}``You have followed me wonderfully!''\ I exclaimed.

{}``So far I could hardly have gone astray. But now your thoughts
went back to Beecher, and you looked hard across as if you were studying
the character in his features. Then your eyes ceased to pucker, but
you continued to look across, and your face was thoughtful. You were
recalling the incidents of Beecher's career. I was well aware that
you could not do this without thinking of the mission which he undertook
on behalf of the North at the time of the Civil War, for I remember
your 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 clenched I was positive that you were indeed thinking of
the gallantry which was shown by both sides in that desperate struggle.
But then, again, your face grew sadder, you shook your head. You were
dwelling upon the sadness and horror and useless waste of life. Your
hand stole towards your own old wound and a smile quivered on your
lips, which showed me that the ridiculous side of this method of settling
international questions had forced itself upon your mind. At this
point I agreed with you that it was preposterous and was glad to find
that all my deductions had been correct.''

{}``Absolutely!''\ said I. {}``And now that you have explained
it, I confess that I am as amazed as before.''

{}``It was very superficial, my dear Watson, I assure you. I should
not have intruded it upon your attention had you not shown some incredulity
the other day. But I have in my hands here a little problem which
may prove to be more difficult of solution than my small essay I thought
reading. Have you observed in the paper a short paragraph referring
to the remarkable contents of a packet sent through the post to Miss
Cushing, of Cross Street, Croydon?''

{}``No, I saw nothing.''

{}``Ah!\ then you must have overlooked it. Just toss it over to
me. Here it is, under the financial column. Perhaps you would be good
enough to read it aloud.''

I picked up the paper which he had thrown back to me and read the
paragraph indicated. It was headed, {}``A Gruesome Packet.''

\begin{quote}
{}``Miss Susan Cushing, living at Cross Street, Croydon, has been
made the victim of what must be regarded as a peculiarly revolting
practical joke unless some more sinister meaning should prove to be
attached to the incident. At two o'clock yesterday afternoon a small
packet, wrapped in brown paper, was handed in by the postman. A cardboard
box was inside, which was filled with coarse salt. On emptying this,
Miss Cushing was horrified to find two human ears, apparently quite
freshly severed. The box had been sent by parcel post from Belfast
upon the morning before. There is no indication as to the sender,
and the matter is the more mysterious as Miss Cushing, who is a maiden
lady of fifty, has led a most retired life, and has so few acquaintances
or corespondents that it is a rare event for her to receive anything
through the post. Some years ago, however, when she resided at Penge,
she let apartments in her house to three young medical students, whom
she was obliged to get rid of on account of their noisy and irregular
habits. The police are of opinion that this outrage may have been
perpetrated upon Miss Cushing by these youths, who owed her a grudge
and who hoped to frighten her by sending her these relics of the dissecting-rooms.
Some probability is lent to the theory by the fact that one of these
students came from the north of Ireland, and, to the best of Miss
Cushing's belief, from Belfast. In the meantime, the matter is being
actively investigated, Mr.\ Lestrade, one of the very smartest of
our detective officers, being in charge of the case.''
\end{quote}
{}

{}``So much for the \emph{Daily Chronicle},''\ said Holmes as I
finished reading. {}``Now for our friend Lestrade. I had a note from
him this morning, in which he says:\ 

\begin{quote}
{}``I think that this case is very much in your line. We have every
hope of clearing the matter up, but we find a little difficulty in
getting anything to work upon. We have, of course, wired to the Belfast
post-office, but a large number of parcels were handed in upon that
day, and they have no means of identifying this particular one, or
of remembering the sender. The box is a half-pound box of honeydew
tobacco and does not help us in any way. The medical student theory
still appears to me to be the most feasible, but if you should have
a few hours to spare I should be very happy to see you out here. I
shall be either at the house or in the police-station all day.
\end{quote}
{}

{}``What say you, Watson? Can you rise superior to the heat and run
down to Croydon with me on the off chance of a case for your annals?''

{}``I was longing for something to do.''

{}``You shall have it then. Ring for our boots and tell them to order
a cab. I'll be back in a moment when I have changed my dressing-gown
and filled my cigar-case.''

A shower of rain fell while we were in the train, and the heat was
far less oppressive in Croydon than in town. Holmes had sent on a
wire, so that Lestrade, as wiry, as dapper, and as ferret-like as
ever, was waiting for us at the station. %
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-card-02.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{Miss Cushing.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
A walk of five minutes took us to Cross Street, where Miss Cushing
resided.

It was a very long street of two-story brick houses, neat and prim,
with whitened stone steps and little groups of aproned women gossiping
at the doors. Halfway down, Lestrade stopped and tapped at a door,
which was opened by a small servant girl. Miss Cushing was sitting
in the front room, into which we were ushered. She was a placid-faced
woman, with large, gentle eyes, and grizzled hair curving down over
her temples on each side. A worked antimacassar lay upon her lap and
a basket of coloured silks stood upon a stool beside her.

{}``They are in the outhouse, those dreadful things,''\ said she
as Lestrade entered. {}``I wish that you would take them away altogether.''

{}``So I shall, Miss Cushing. I only kept them here until my friend,
Mr.\ Holmes, should have seen them in your presence.''

{}``Why in my presence, sir?''

{}``In case he wished to ask any questions.''

{}``What is the use of asking me questions when I tell you I know
nothing whatever about it?''

{}``Quite so, madam,''\ said Holmes in his soothing way. {}``I
have no doubt that you have been annoyed more than enough already
over this business.''

{}``Indeed I have, sir. I am a quiet woman and live a retired life.
It is something new for me to see my name in the papers and to find
the police in my house. I won't have those things in here, Mr.\ Lestrade.
If you wish to see them you must go to the outhouse.''

It was a small shed in the narrow garden which ran behind the house.
Lestrade went in and brought out a yellow cardboard box, with a piece
of brown paper and some string. There was a bench at the end of the
path, and we all sat down while Homes examined one by one, the articles
which Lestrade had handed to him.

{}``The string is exceedingly interesting,''\ he remarked, holding
it up to the light and sniffing at it. {}``What do you make of this
string, Lestrade?''

{}``It has been tarred.''

{}``Precisely. It is a piece of tarred twine. You have also, no doubt,
remarked that Miss Cushing has cut the cord with a scissors, as can
be seen by the double fray on each side. This is of importance.''

{}``I cannot see the importance,''\ said Lestrade.

{}``The importance lies in the fact that the knot is left intact,
and that this knot is of a peculiar character.''

{}``It is very neatly tied. I had already made a note of that effect,''\ said
Lestrade complacently.

{}``So much for the string, then,''\ said Holmes, smiling, {}``now
for the box wrapper. Brown paper, with a distinct smell of coffee.
What, did you not observe it? I think there can be no doubt of it.
Address printed in rather straggling characters: `Miss S. Cushing,
Cross Street, Croydon.' Done with a broad-pointed pen, probably a
J, and with very inferior ink. The word `Croydon'\ has been originally
spelled with an `i', which has been changed to `y'. The parcel was
directed, then, by a man\mdsh{---}the printing is distinctly masculine\mdsh{---}of
limited education and unacquainted with the town of Croydon. So far,
so good! The box is a yellow, half-pound honeydew box, with nothing
distinctive save two thumb marks at the left bottom corner. It is
filled with rough salt of the quality used for preserving hides and
other of the coarser commercial purposes. And embedded in it are these
very singular enclosures.''

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-card-03.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{He examined them minutely.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
He took out the two ears as he spoke, and laying a board across his
knee he examined them minutely, while Lestrade and I, bending forward
on each side of him, glanced alternately at these dreadful relics
and at the thoughtful, eager face of our companion. Finally he returned
them to the box once more and sat for a while in deep meditation.

{}``You have observed, of course,''\ said he at last, {}``that
the ears are not a pair.''

{}``Yes, I have noticed that. But if this were the practical joke
of some students from the dissecting-rooms, it would be as easy for
them to send two odd ears as a pair.''

{}``Precisely. But this is not a practical joke.''

{}``You are sure of it?''

{}``The presumption is strongly against it. Bodies in the dissecting-rooms
are injected with preservative fluid. These ears bear no signs of
this. They are fresh, too. They have been cut off with a blunt instrument,
which would hardly happen if a student had done it. Again, carbolic
or rectified spirits would be the preservatives which would suggest
themselves to the medical mind, certainly not rough salt. I repeat
that there is no practical joke here, but that we are investigating
a serious crime.''

A vague thrill ran through me as I listened to my companion's words
and saw the stern gravity which had hardened his features. This brutal
preliminary seemed to shadow forth some strange and inexplicable horror
in the background. Lestrade, however, shook his head like a man who
is only half convinced.

{}``There are objections to the joke theory, no doubt,''\ said
he, {}``but there are much stronger reasons against the other. We
know that this woman has led a most quiet and respectable life at
Penge and here for the last twenty years. She has hardly been away
from her home for a day during that time. Why on earth, then, should
any criminal send her the proofs of his guilt, especially as, unless
she is a most consummate actress, she understands quite as little
of the matter as we do?''

{}``That is the problem which we have to solve,''\ Holmes answered,
{}``and for my part I shall set about it by presuming that my reasoning
is correct, and that a double murder has been committed. One of these
ears is a woman's, small, finely formed, and pierced for an earring.
The other is a man's, sun-burned, discoloured, and also pierced for
an earring. These two people are presumably dead, or we should have
heard their story before now. To-day is Friday. The packet was posted
on Thursday morning. The tragedy, then, occurred on Wednesday or Tuesday,
or earlier. If the two people were murdered, who but their murderer
would have sent this sign of his work to Miss Cushing? We may take
it that the sender of the packet is the man whom we want. But he must
have some strong reason for sending Miss Cushing this packet. What
reason then? It must have been to tell her that the deed was done!\ or
to pain her, perhaps. But in that case she knows who it is. Does she
know? I doubt it. If she knew, why should she call the police in?
She might have buried the ears, and no one would have been the wiser.
That is what she would have done if she had wished to shield the criminal.
But if she does not wish to shield him she would give his name. There
is a tangle here which needs straightening to.'' He had been talking
in a high, quick voice, staring blankly up over the garden fence,
but now he sprang briskly to his feet and walked towards the house.

{}``I have a few questions to ask Miss Cushing,''\ said he.

{}``In that case I may leave you here,''\ said Lestrade, {}``for
I have another small business on hand. I think that I have nothing
further to learn form Miss Cushing. You will find me at the police-station.''

{}``We shall look in on our way to the train,''\ answered Holmes.
A moment later he and I were back in the front room, where the impassive
lady was still quietly working away at her antimacassar. She put it
down on her lap as we entered and looked at us with her frank, searching
blue eyes.

{}``I am convinced, sir,''\ she said, {}``that this matter is
a mistake, and that the parcel was never meant for me at all. I have
said this several times to the gentlemen from Scotland Yard, but he
simply laughs at me. I have not an enemy in the world, as far as I
know, so why should anyone play me such a trick?''

{}``I am coming to be of the same opinion, Miss Cushing,''\ said
Holmes, taking a seat beside her. {}``I think that it is more than
probable\mdsh{---}''\ He paused, and I was surprised, on glancing
round to see that he was staring with singular intentness at the lady's
profile. Surprise and satisfaction were both for an instant to be
read upon his eager face, though when she glanced round to find out
the cause of his silence he had become as demure as ever. I stared
hard myself at her flat, grizzled hair, her trim cap, her little gilt
earrings, her placid features; but I could see nothing which could
account for my companion's evident excitement.

{}``There were one or two questions\mdsh{---}''

{}``Oh, I am weary of questions!''\ cried Miss Cushing impatiently.

{}``You have two sisters, I believe.''

{}``How could you know that?''

{}``I observed the very instant that I entered the room that you
have a portrait group of three ladies upon the mantelpiece, one of
whom is undoubtedly yourself, while the others are so exceedingly
like you that there could be no doubt of the relationship.''

{}``Yes, you are quite right. Those are my sisters, Sarah and Mary.''

{}``And here at my elbow is another portrait, taken at Liverpool,
of your younger sister, in the company of a man who appears to be
a steward by his uniform. I observe that she was unmarried at the
time.''

{}``You are very quick at observing.''

{}``That is my trade.''

{}``Well, you are quite right. But she was married to Mr.\ Browner
a few days afterwards. He was on the South American line when that
was taken, but he was so fond of her that he couldn't abide to leave
her for so long, and he got into the Liverpool and London boats.''

{}``Ah, the \emph{Conqueror}, perhaps?''

{}``No, the \emph{May Day}, when last I heard. Jim came down here
to see me once. That was before he broke the pledge; but afterwards
he would always take drink when he was ashore, and a little drink
would send him stark, staring mad. Ah!\ it was a bad day that ever
he took a glass in his hand again. First he dropped me, then he quarrelled
with Sarah, and now that Mary has stopped writing we don't know how
things are going with them.''

It was evident that Miss Cushing had come upon a subject on which
she felt very deeply. Like most people who lead a lonely life, she
was shy at first, but ended by becoming extremely communicative. She
told us many details about her brother-in-law the steward, and then
wandering off on the subject of her former lodgers, the medical students,
she gave us a long account of their delinquencies, with their names
and those of their hospitals. Holmes listened attentively to everything,
throwing in a question from time to time.

{}``About your second sister, Sarah,''\ said he. {}``I wonder,
since you are both maiden ladies, that you do not keep house together.''

{}``Ah!\ you don't know Sarah's temper or you would wonder no more.
I tried it when I came to Croydon, and we kept on until about two
months ago, when we had to part. I don't want to say a word against
my own sister, but she was always meddlesome and hard to please, was
Sarah.''

{}``You say that she quarrelled with your Liverpool relations.''

{}``Yes, and they were the best of friends at one time. Why, she
went up there to live in order to be near them. And now she has no
word hard enough for Jim Browner. The last six months that she was
here she would speak of nothing but his drinking and his ways. He
had caught her meddling, I suspect, and given her a bit of his mind,
and that was the start of it.''

{}``Thank you, Miss Cushing,''\ said Holmes, rising and bowing.
{}``Your sister Sarah lives, I think you said, at New Street, Wallington?
Good-bye, and I am very sorry that you should have been troubled over
a case with which, as you say, you have nothing whatever to do.''

There was a cab passing as we came out, and Holmes hailed it.

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-card-04.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{{}``How far to Wallington?''}\end{center}
\end{figure}
{}``How far to Wallington?''\ he asked.

{}``Only about a mile, sir.''

{}``Very good. Jump in, Watson. We must strike while the iron is
hot. Simple as the case is, there have been one or two very instructive
details in connection with it. Just pull up at a telegraph office
as you pass, cabby.''

Holmes sent off a short wire and for the rest of the drive lay back
in the cab, with his hat tilted over his nose to keep the sun from
his face. Our drive pulled up at a house which was not unlike the
one which we had just quitted. My companion ordered him to wait, and
had his hand upon the knocker, when the door opened and a grave young
gentleman in black, with a very shiny hat, appeared on the step.

{}``Is Miss Cushing at home?''\ asked Holmes.

{}``Miss Sarah Cushing is extremely ill,''\ said he. {}``She has
been suffering since yesterday from brain symptoms of great severity.
As her medical adviser, I cannot possibly take the responsibility
of allowing anyone to see her. I should recommend you to call again
in ten days.'' He drew on his gloves, closed the door, and marched
off down the street.

{}``Well, if we can't we can't,''\ said Holmes, cheerfully.

{}``Perhaps she could not or would not have told you much.''

{}``I did not wish her to tell me anything. I only wanted to look
at her. However, I think that I have got all that I want. Drive us
to some decent hotel, cabby, where we may have some lunch, and afterwards
we shall drop down upon friend Lestrade at the police-station.''

We had a pleasant little meal together, during which Holmes would
talk about nothing but violins, narrating with great exultation how
he had purchased his own Stradivarius, which was worth at least five
hundred guineas, at a Jew broker's in Tottenham Court Road for fifty-five
shillings. This led him to Paganini, and we sat for an hour over a
bottle of claret while he told me anecdote after anecdote of that
extraordinary man. The afternoon was far advanced and the hot glare
had softened into a mellow glow before we found ourselves at the police-station.
Lestrade was waiting for us at the door.

{}``A telegram for you, Mr.\ Holmes,''\ said he.

{}``Ha! It is the answer!''\  He tore it open, glanced his eyes
over it, and crumpled it into his pocket. {}``That's all right,''\ said
he.

{}``Have you found out anything?''

{}``I have found out everything!''

{}``What!''\ Lestrade stared at him in amazement. {}``You are
joking.''

{}``I was never more serious in my life. A shocking crime has been
committed, and I think I have now laid bare every detail of it.''

{}``And the criminal?''

Holmes scribbled a few words upon the back of one of his visiting
cards and threw it over to Lestrade.

{}``That is the name,''\ he said. {}``You cannot effect an arrest
until to-morrow night at the earliest. I should prefer that you do
not mention my name at all in connection with the case, as I choose
to be only associated with those crimes which present some difficulty
in their solution. Come on, Watson.'' We strode off together to the
station, leaving Lestrade still staring with a delighted face at the
card which Holmes had thrown him.

{}``The case,''\ said Sherlock Holmes as we chatted over or cigars
that night in our rooms at Baker Street, {}``is one where, as in
the investigations which you have chronicled under the names of `A
Study in Scarlet'\ and of `The Sign of Four,'\ we have been compelled
to reason backward from effects to causes. I have written to Lestrade
asking him to supply us with the details which are now wanting, and
which he will only get after he had secured his man. That he may be
safely trusted to do, for although he is absolutely devoid of reason,
he is as tenacious as a bulldog when he once understands what he has
to do, and indeed, it is just this tenacity which has brought him
to the top at Scotland Yard.''

{}``Your case is not complete, then?''\ I asked.

{}``It is fairly complete in essentials. We know who the author of
the revolting business is, although one of the victims still escapes
us. Of course, you have formed your own conclusions.''

{}``I presume that this Jim Browner, the steward of a Liverpool boat,
is the man whom you suspect?''

{}``Oh!\ it is more than a suspicion.''

{}``And yet I cannot see anything save very vague indications.''

{}``On the contrary, to my mind nothing could be more clear. Let
me run over the principal steps. We approached the case, you remember,
with an absolutely blank mind, which is always an advantage. We had
formed no theories. We were simply there to observe and to draw inferences
from our observations. What did we see first? A very placid and respectable
lady, who seemed quite innocent of any secret, and a portrait which
showed me that she had two younger sisters. It instantly flashed across
my mind that the box might have been meant for one of these. I set
the idea aside as one which could be disproved or confirmed at our
leisure. Then we went to the garden, as you remember, and we saw the
very singular contents of the little yellow box.

{}``The string was of the quality which is used by sail-makers aboard
ship, and at once a whiff of the sea was perceptible in our investigation.
When I observed that the knot was one which is popular with sailors,
that the parcel had been posted at a port, and that the male ear was
pierced for an earring which is so much more common among sailors
than landsmen, I was quite certain that all the actors in the tragedy
were to be found among our seafaring classes.

{}``When I came to examine the address of the packet I observed that
it was to Miss S.\ Cushing. Now, the oldest sister would, of course,
be Miss Cushing, and although her initial was `S'\ it might belong
to one of the others as well. In that case we should have to commence
our investigation from a fresh basis altogether. I therefore went
into the house with the intention of clearing up this point. I was
about to assure Miss Cushing that I was convinced that a mistake had
been made when you may remember that I came suddenly to a stop. The
fact was that I had just seen something which filled me with surprise
and at the same time narrowed the field of our inquiry immensely.

{}``As a medical man, you are aware, Watson, that there is no part
of the body which varies so much as the human ear. Each ear is as
a rule quite distinctive and differs from all other ones. In last
year's \emph{Anthropological Journal} you will find two short monographs
from my pen upon the subject. I had, therefore, examined the ears
in the box with the eyes of an expert and had carefully noted their
anatomical peculiarities. Imagine my surprise, then, when on looking
at Miss Cushing I perceived that her ear corresponded exactly with
the female ear which I had just inspected. The matter was entirely
beyond coincidence. There was the same shortening of the pinna, the
same broad curve of the upper lobe, the same convolution of the inner
cartilage. In all essentials it was the same ear.

{}``In the first place, her sister's name was Sarah, and her address
had until recently been the same, so that it was quite obvious how
the mistake had occurred and for whom the packet was meant. Then we
heard of this steward, married to the third sister, and learned that
he had at one time been so intimate with Miss Sarah that she had actually
gone up to Liverpool to be near the Browners, but a quarrel had afterwards
divided them. This quarrel had put a stop to all communications for
some months, so that if Browner had occasion to address a packet to
Miss Sarah, he would undoubtedly have done so to her old address.

{}``And now the matter had begun to straighten itself out wonderfully.
We had learned of the existence of this steward, an impulsive man,
of strong passions\mdsh{---}you remember that he threw up what must
have been a very superior berth in order to be nearer to his wife\mdsh{---}subject,
too, to occasional fits of hard drinking. We had reason to believe
that his wife had been murdered, and that a man\mdsh{---}presumably
a seafaring man\mdsh{---}had been murdered at the same time. Jealousy,
of course, at once suggests itself as the motive for the crime. And
why should these proofs of the deed be sent to Miss Sarah Cushing?
Probably because during her residence in Liverpool she had some hand
in bringing about the events which led to the tragedy. You will observe
that this line of boats call at Belfast, Dublin, and Waterford; so
that, presuming that Browner had committed the deed and had embarked
at once upon his steamer, the \emph{May Day}, Belfast would be the
first place at which he cold post his terrible packet.

{}``A second solution was at this stage obviously possible, and although
I thought it exceedingly unlikely, I was determined to elucidate it
before going further. An unsuccessful lover might have killed Mr.\ and
Mrs.\ Browner, and the male ear might have belonged to the husband.
There were many grave objections to this theory, but it was conceivable.
I therefore sent off a telegram to my friend \textit{\emph{Algar}},
of the Liverpool force, and asked him to find our if Mrs.\ Browner
were at home, and if Browner had departed in the \emph{May Day}. Then
we went on to Wallington to visit Miss Sarah.

{}``I was curious, in the first place, to see how far the family
ear had been reproduced in her. Then, of course, she might give us
very important information, but I was not sanguine that she would.
She must have heard of the business the day before, since all Croydon
was ringing with it, and she alone could have understood for whom
the packet was meant. If she had been willing to help justice she
would probably have communicated with the police already. However,
it was clearly our duty to see her, so we went. We found that the
news of the arrival of the packet--for her illness dated from that
time\mdsh{---}had such an effect upon her as to bring on brain fever.
It was clearer than ever that she understood its full significance,
but equally clear that we should have to wait some time for any assistance
from her.

{}``However, we were really independent of her help. Our answers
were waiting for us at the police-station, where I had directed \textit{\emph{Algar}}
to send them. Nothing could be more conclusive. Mrs.\ Browner's house
had been closed for more than three days, and the neighbours were
of opinion that she had gone south to see her relatives. It had been
ascertained at the shipping offices that Browner had left aboard of
the \emph{May Day}, and I calculate that she is due in the Thames
tomorrow night. When he arrives he will be met by the obtuse but resolute
Lestrade, and I have no doubt that we shall have all our details filled
in.''

Sherlock Holmes was not disappointed in his expectations. Two days
later he received a bulky envelope, which contained a short note from
the detective, and a typewritten document, which covered several pages
of foolscap.

{}``Lestrade has got him all right,''\ said Holmes, glancing up
at me. {}``Perhaps it would interest you to hear what he says.

\begin{quotation}
\noindent %
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics{lstbwetc-card-05.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{James Browner.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
{}``\noun{My dear Mr.\ Holmes}:\ 

In accordance with the scheme which we had formed in order to test
our theories''\ {[}{}``the `we'\ is rather fine, Watson, is it
not?''{]}\ {}``I went down to the Albert Dock yesterday at 6 p.m.,
and boarded the \emph{S.S.\ May Day}, belonging to the Liverpool,
Dublin, and London Steam Packet Company. On inquiry, I found that
there was a steward on board of the name of James Browner and that
he had acted during the voyage in such an extraordinary manner that
the captain had been compelled to relieve him of his duties. On descending
to his berth, I found him seated upon a chest with his head sunk upon
his hands, rocking himself to and fro. He is a big, powerful chap,
clean-shaven, and very swarthy\mdsh{---}something like Aldrige,
who helped us in the bogus laundry affair. %
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-card-06.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{{}``He held out his hands quietly.''}\end{center}
\end{figure}
He jumped up when he heard my business, and I had my whistle to my
lips to call a couple of river police, who were round the corner,
but he seemed to have no heart in him, and he held out his hands quietly
enough for the darbies. We brought him along to the cells, and his
box as well, for we thought there might be something incriminating;
but, bar a big sharp knife such as most sailors have, we got nothing
for our trouble. However, we find that we shall want no more evidence,
for on being brought before the inspector at the station he asked
leave to make a statement, which was, of course, taken down, just
as he made it, by our shorthand man. We had three copies typewritten,
one of which I enclose. The affair proves, as I always thought it
would, to be an extremely simple one, but I am obliged to you for
assisting me in my investigation. With kind regards,

\hspace{\stretch{1}}{}``Yours very truly,

\hspace{\stretch{1}}{}``\noun{G. Lestrade}.
\end{quotation}
{}

{}``Hum! The investigation really was a very simple one,''\ remarked
Holmes, {}``but I don't think it struck him in that light when he
first called us in. However, let us see what Jim Browner has to say
for himself. This is his statement as made before Inspector Montgomery
at the Shadwell Police Station, and it has the advantage of being
verbatim.''

\begin{quotation}
{}```Have I anything to say? Yes, I have a deal to say. I have to
make a clean breast of it all. You can hang me, or you can leave me
alone. I don't care a plug which you do. I tell you I've not shut
an eye in sleep since I did it, and I don't believe I ever will again
until I get past all waking. Sometimes it's his face, but most generally
it's hers. I'm never without one or the other before me. He looks
frowning and black-like, but she has a kind o'\ surprise upon her
face. \textit{\emph{Ay}}, the white lamb, she might well be surprised
when she read death on a face that had seldom looked anything but
love upon her before.

{}```But it was Sarah's fault, and may the curse of a broken man
put a blight on her and set the blood rotting in her veins! It's not
that I want to clear myself. I know that I went back to drink, like
the beast that I was. But she would have forgiven me; she would have
stuck as close to me as a rope to a block if that woman had never
darkened our door. For Sarah Cushing loved me\mdsh{---}that's the
root of the business\mdsh{---}she loved me until all her love turned
to poisonous hate when she knew that I thought more of my wife's footmark
in the mud than I did of her whole body and soul.

{}```There were three sisters altogether. The old one was just a
good woman, the second was a devil, and the third was an angel. Sarah
was thirty-three, and Mary was twenty-nine when I married. We were
just as happy as the day was long when we set up house together, and
in all Liverpool there was no better woman than my Mary. And then
we asked Sarah up for a week, and the week grew into a month, and
one thing led to another, until she was just one of ourselves.

{}```I was blue ribbon at that time, and we were putting a little
money by, and all was as bright as a new dollar. My God, whoever would
have thought that it could have come to this? Whoever would have dreamed
it?

{}```I used to be home for the week-ends very often, and sometimes
if the ship were held back for cargo I would have a whole week at
a time, and in this way I saw a deal of my sister-in-law, Sarah. She
was a fine tall woman, black and quick and fierce, with a proud way
of carrying her head, and a glint from her eye like a spark from a
flint. But when little Mary was there I had never a thought of her,
and that I swear as I hope for God's mercy.

{}```It had seemed to me sometimes that she liked to be alone with
me, or to coax me out for a walk with her, but I had never thought
anything of that. But one evening my eyes were opened. I had come
up from the ship and found my wife out, but Sarah at home. {}``Where's
Mary?''\ I asked. {}``Oh, she has gone to pay some accounts.''
I was impatient and paced up and down the room. {}``Can't you be
happy for five minutes without Mary, Jim?''\ says she. {}``It's
a bad compliment to me that you can't be contented with my society
for so short a time.'' %
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-card-07.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{{}``That's all right, my lass,''\ said
I.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
{}``That's all right, my lass,''\ said I, putting out my hand towards
her in a kindly way, but she had it in both hers in an instant, and
they burned as if they were in a fever. I looked into her eyes and
I read it all there. There was no need for her to speak, nor for me
either. I frowned and drew my hand away. Then she stood by my side
in silence for a bit, and then put up her hand and patted me on the
shoulder. {}``Steady old Jim!''\ said she, and with a kind o'\ mocking
laugh, she ran out of the room.

{}```Well, from that time Sarah hated me with her whole heart and
soul, and she is a woman who can hate, too. I was a fool to let her
go on biding with us\mdsh{---}a besotted fool\mdsh{---}but I never
said a word to Mary, for I knew it would grieve her. Things went on
much as before, but after a time I began to find that there was a
bit of a change in Mary herself. She had always been so trusting and
so innocent, but now she became queer and suspicious, wanting to know
where I had been and what I had been doing, and whom my letters were
from, and what I had in my pockets, and a thousand such follies. Day
by day she grew queerer and more irritable, and we had ceaseless rows
about nothing. I was fairly puzzled by it all. Sarah avoided me now,
but she and Mary were just inseparable. I can see now how she was
plotting and scheming and poisoning my wife's mind against me, but
I was such a blind beetle that I could not understand it at the time.
Then I broke my blue ribbon and began to drink again, but I think
I should not have done it if Mary had been the same as ever. She had
some reason to be disgusted with me now, and the gap between us began
to be wider and wider. And then this Alec Fairbairn chipped in, and
things became a thousand times blacker.

{}```It was to see Sarah that he came to my house first, but soon
it was to see us, for he was a man with winning ways, and he made
friends wherever he went. He was a dashing, swaggering chap, smart
and curled, who had seen half the world and could talk of what he
had seen. He was good company, I won't deny it, and he had wonderful
polite ways with him for a sailor man, so that I think there must
have been a time when he knew more of the poop than the forecastle.
For a month he was in and out of my house, and never once did it cross
my mind that harm might come of his soft, tricky ways. And then at
last something made me suspect, and from that day my peace was gone
forever.

{}```It was only a little thing, too. I had come into the parlour
unexpected, and as I walked in at the door I saw a light of welcome
on my wife's face. But as she saw who it was it faded again, and she
turned away with a look of disappointment. That was enough for me.
There was no one but Alec Fairbairn whose step she could have mistaken
for mine. If I could have seen him then I should have killed him,
for I have always been like a madman when my temper gets loose. Mary
saw the devil's light in my eyes, and she ran forward with her hands
on my sleeve. {}``Don't, Jim, don't!''\ says she. {}``Where's
Sarah?''\ I asked. {}``In the kitchen,''\ says she. {}``Sarah,''\ says
I as I went in, {}``this man Fairbairn is never to darken my door
again.'' {}``Why not?''\ says she. {}``Because I order it.''
{}``Oh!''\ says she, {}``if my friends are not good enough for
this house, then I am not good enough for it either.'' {}``You can
do what you like,''\ says I, {}``but if Fairbairn shows his face
here again I'll send you one of his ears for a keepsake.'' She was
frightened by my face, I think, for she never answered a word, and
the same evening she left my house.

{}```Well, I don't know now whether it was pure devilry on the part
of this woman, or whether she thought that she could turn me against
my wife by encouraging her to misbehave. Anyway, she took a house
just two streets off and let lodgings to sailors. Fairbairn used to
stay there, and Mary would go round to have tea with her sister and
him. How often she went I don't know, but I followed her one day,
and as I broke in at the door Fairbairn got away over the back garden
wall, like the cowardly skunk that he was. I swore to my wife that
I would kill her if I found her in his company again, and I led her
back with me, sobbing and trembling, and as white as a piece of paper.
There was no trace of love between us any longer. I could see that
she hated me and feared me, and when the thought of it drove me to
drink, then she despised me as well.

{}```Well, Sarah found that she could not make a living in Liverpool,
so she went back, as I understand, to live with her sister in Croydon,
and things jogged on much the same as ever at home. And then came
this week and all the misery and ruin.

{}```It was in this way. We had gone on the \emph{May Day} for a
round voyage of seven days, but a hogshead got loose and started one
of our plates, so that we had to put back into port for twelve hours.
I left the ship and came home, thinking what a surprise it would be
for my wife, and hoping that maybe she would be glad to see me so
soon. The thought was in my head as I turned into my own street, and
at that moment a cab passed me, and there she was, sitting by the
side of Fairbairn, the two chatting and laughing, with never a thought
for me as I stood watching them from the footpath.

{}```I tell you, and I give you my word for it, that from that moment
I was not my own master, and it is all like a dim dream when I look
back on it. I had been drinking hard of late, and the two things together
fairly turned my brain. There's something throbbing in my head now,
like a docker's hammer, but that morning I seemed to have all Niagara
whizzing and buzzing in my ears.

{}```Well, I took to my heels, and I ran after the cab. I had a heavy
oak stick in my hand, and I tell you I saw red from the first; but
as I ran I got cunning, too, and hung back a little to see them without
being seen. They pulled up soon at the railway station. There was
a good crowd round the booking-office, so I got quite close to them
without being seen. They took tickets for New Brighton. So did I,
but I got in three carriages behind them. When we reached it they
walked along the Parade, and I was never more than a hundred yards
from them. At last I saw them hire a boat and start for a row, for
it was a very hot day, and they thought, no doubt, that it would be
cooler on the water.

{}```It was just as if they had been given into my hands. There was
a bit of a haze, and you could not see more than a few hundred yards.
I hired a boat for myself, and I pulled after them. I could see the
blur of their craft, but they were going nearly as fast as I, and
they must have been a long mile from the shore before I caught them
up. The haze was like a curtain all round us, and there were we three
in the middle of it. My God, shall I ever forget their faces when
they saw who was in the boat that was closing in upon them? She screamed
out. He swore like a madman and jabbed at me with an oar, for he must
have seen death in my eyes. %
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-card-08.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{{}``I got one in with my stick that
crushed his head like an egg.''}\end{center}
\end{figure}
I got past it and got one in with my stick that crushed his head like
an egg. I would have spared her, perhaps, for all my madness, but
she threw her arms round him, crying out to him, and calling him {}``Alec.''
I struck again, and she lay stretched beside him. I was like a wild
beast then that had tasted blood. If Sarah had been there, by the
Lord, she should have joined them. I pulled out my knife, and\mdsh{---}well,
there! I've said enough. It gave me a kind of savage joy when I thought
how Sarah would feel when she had such signs as these of what her
meddling had brought about. Then I tied the bodies into the boat,
stove a plank, and stood by until they had sunk. I knew very well
that the owner would think that they had lost their bearings in the
haze, and had drifted off out to sea. I cleaned myself up, got back
to land, and joined my ship without a soul having a suspicion of what
had passed. That night I made up the packet for Sarah Cushing, and
next day I sent it from Belfast.

{}```There you have the whole truth of it. You can hang me, or do
what you like with me, but you cannot punish me as I have been punished
already. I cannot shut my eyes but I see those two faces staring at
me\mdsh{---}staring at me as they stared when my boat broke through
the haze. I killed them quick, but they are killing me slow; and if
I have another night of it I shall be either mad or dead before morning.
You won't put me alone into a cell, sir? For pity's sake don't, and
may you be treated in your day of agony as you treat me now.'
\end{quotation}
{}

{}``What is the meaning of it, Watson?''\ said Holmes solemnly
as he laid down the paper. {}``What object is served by this circle
of misery and violence and fear? It must tend to some end, or else
our universe is ruled by chance, which is unthinkable. But what end?
There is the great standing perennial problem to which human reason
is as far from an answer as ever.''


\chapter*{\raggedright The Adventure of the Red Circle {\large }\protect \\
{\large Illustrations by H.}\ {\large M.}\ {\large Brock}}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{The Adventure of the Red Circle}

\markboth{His Last Bow}{The Adventure of the Red Circle}


\section*{1.}

{}``Well, Mrs.\ Warren, I cannot see that you have any particular
cause for uneasiness, nor do I understand why I, whose time is of
some value, should interfere in the matter. I really have other things
to engage me.'' So spoke Sherlock Holmes and turned back to the great
scrapbook in which he was arranging and indexing some of his recent
material.

But the landlady had the pertinacity and also the cunning of her sex.
She held her ground firmly.

{}``You arranged an affair for a lodger of mine last year,''\ she
said\mdsh{---}{}``Mr.\ Fairdale Hobbs.''

{}``Ah, yes\mdsh{---}a simple matter.''

{}``But he would never cease talking of it\mdsh{---}your kindness,
sir, and the way in which you brought light into the darkness. I remembered
his words when I was in doubt and darkness myself. I know you could
if you only would.''

Holmes was accessible upon the side of flattery, and also, to do him
justice, upon the side of kindliness. The two forces made him lay
down his gum-brush with a sigh of resignation and push back his chair.

{}``Well, well, Mrs.\ Warren, let us hear about it, then. You don't
object to tobacco, I take it? Thank you, Watson\mdsh{---}the matches!
You are uneasy, as I understand, because your new lodger remains in
his rooms and you cannot see him. Why, bless you, Mrs.\ Warren, if
I were your lodger you often would not see me for weeks on end.''

{}``No doubt, sir; but this is different. It frightens me, Mr.\ Holmes.
I can't sleep for fright. To hear his quick step moving here and moving
there from early morning to late at night, and yet never to catch
so much as a glimpse of him\mdsh{---}it's more than I can stand.
My husband is as nervous over it as I am, but he is out at his work
all day, while I get no rest from it. What is he hiding for? What
has he done? Except for the girl, I am all alone in the house with
him, and it's more than my nerves can stand.''

Holmes leaned forward and laid his long, thin fingers upon the woman's
shoulder. He had an almost hypnotic power of soothing when he wished.
The scared look faded from her eyes, and her agitated features smoothed
into their usual commonplace. She sat down in the chair which he had
indicated.

{}``If I take it up I must understand every detail,''\ said he.
{}``Take time to consider. The smallest point may be the most essential.
You say that the man came ten days ago and paid you for a fortnight's
board and lodging?''

{}``He asked my terms, sir. I said fifty shillings a week. There
is a small sitting-room and bedroom, and all complete, at the top
of the house.''

{}``Well?''

{}``He said, `I'll pay you five pounds a week if I can have it on
my own terms.' I'm a poor woman, sir, and Mr.\ Warren earns little,
and the money meant much to me. He took out a ten-pound note, and
he held it out to me then and there. `You can have the same every
fortnight for a long time to come if you keep the terms,' he said.
`If not, I'll have no more to do with you.'''

{}``What were the terms?''

{}``Well, sir, they were that he was to have a key of the house.
That was all right. Lodgers often have them. Also, that he was to
be left entirely to himself and never, upon any excuse, to be disturbed.''

{}``Nothing wonderful in that, surely?''

{}``Not in reason, sir. But this is out of all reason. He has been
there for ten days, and neither Mr.\ Warren, nor I, nor the girl
has once set eyes upon him. We can hear that quick step of his pacing
up and down, up and down, night, morning, and noon; but except on
that first night he had never once gone out of the house.''

{}``Oh, he went out the first night, did he?''

{}``Yes, sir, and returned very late\mdsh{---}after we were all
in bed. He told me after he had taken the rooms that he would do so
and asked me not to bar the door. I heard him come up the stair after
midnight.''

{}``But his meals?''

{}``It was his particular direction that we should always, when he
rang, leave his meal upon a chair, outside his door. Then he rings
again when he has finished, and we take it down from the same chair.
If he wants anything else he prints it on a slip of paper and leaves
it.''

{}``Prints it?''

{}``Yes, sir; prints it in pencil. Just the word, nothing more. Here's
the one I brought to show you\mdsh{---}SOAP. Here's another\mdsh{---}MATCH.
This is one he left the first morning\mdsh{---}DAILY GAZETTE. I
leave that paper with his breakfast every morning.''

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-redc-01.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{{}``Dear me, Watson,''\ said Holmes,
staring with great curiosity at the slips of foolscap.}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\emph{\footnotesize (Illustration by Joseph
Simpson)}\end{center}
\end{figure}
{}``Dear me, Watson,''\ said Holmes, staring with great curiosity
at the slips of foolscap which the landlady had handed to him, {}``this
is certainly a little unusual. Seclusion I can understand; but why
print? Printing is a clumsy process. Why not write? What would it
suggest, Watson?''

{}``That he desired to conceal his handwriting.''

{}``But why? What can it matter to him that his landlady should have
a word of his writing? Still, it may be as you say. Then, again, why
such laconic messages?''

{}``I cannot imagine.''

{}``It opens a pleasing field for intelligent speculation. The words
are written with a broad-pointed, violet-tinted pencil of a not unusual
pattern. You will observe that the paper is torn away at the side
here after the printing was done, so that the `s'\ of `soap'\ is
partly gone. Suggestive, Watson, is it not?''

{}``Of caution?''

{}``Exactly. There was evidently some mark, some thumbprint, something
which might give a clue to the person's identity. Now, Mrs.\ Warren,
you say that the man was of middle size, dark, and bearded. What age
would he be?''

{}``Youngish, sir\mdsh{---}not over thirty.''

{}``Well, can you give me no further indications?''

{}``He spoke good English, sir, and yet I thought he was a foreigner
by his accent.''

{}``And he was well dressed?''

{}``Very smartly dressed, sir\mdsh{---}quite the gentleman. Dark
clothes\mdsh{---}nothing you would note.''

{}``He gave no name?''

{}``No, sir.''

{}``And has had no letters or callers?''

{}``None.''

{}``But surely you or the girl enter his room of a morning?''

{}``No, sir; he looks after himself entirely.''

{}``Dear me!\ that is certainly remarkable. What about his luggage?''

{}``He had one big brown bag with him\mdsh{---}nothing else.''

{}``Well, we don't seem to have much material to help us. Do you
say nothing has come out of that room\mdsh{---}absolutely nothing?''

The landlady drew an envelope from her bag; from it she shook out
two burnt matches and a cigarette-end upon the table.

{}``They were on his tray this morning. I brought them because I
had heard that you can read great things out of small ones.''

Holmes shrugged his shoulders.

{}``There is nothing here,''\ said he. {}``The matches have, of
course, been used to light cigarettes. That is obvious from the shortness
of the burnt end. Half the match is consumed in lighting a pipe or
cigar. But, dear me!\ this cigarette stub is certainly remarkable.
The gentleman was bearded and moustached, you say?''

{}``Yes, sir.''

{}``I don't understand that. I should say that only a clean-shaven
man could have smoked this. Why, Watson, even your modest moustache
would have been singed.''

{}``A holder?''\ I suggested.

{}``No, no; the end is matted. I suppose there could not be two people
in your rooms, Mrs.\ Warren?''

{}``No, sir. He eats so little that I often wonder it can keep life
in one.''

{}``Well, I think we must wait for a little more material. After
all, you have nothing to complain of. You have received your rent,
and he is not a troublesome lodger, though he is certainly an unusual
one. He pays you well, and if he chooses to lie concealed it is no
direct business of yours. We have no excuse for an intrusion upon
his privacy until we have some reason to think that there is a guilty
reason for it. I've taken up the matter, and I won't lose sight of
it. Report to me if anything fresh occurs, and rely upon my assistance
if it should be needed.

{}``There are certainly some points of interest in this case, Watson,''\ he
remarked when the landlady had left us. {}``It may, of course, be
trivial\mdsh{---}individual eccentricity; or it may be very much
deeper than appears on the surface. The first thing that strikes one
is the obvious possibility that the person now in the rooms may be
entirely different from the one who engaged them.''

{}``Why should you think so?''

{}``Well, apart form this cigarette-end, was it not suggestive that
the only time the lodger went out was immediately after his taking
the rooms? He came back\mdsh{---}or someone came back\mdsh{---}when
all witnesses were out of the way. We have no proof that the person
who came back was the person who went out. Then, again, the man who
took the rooms spoke English well. This other, however, prints `match'\ when
it should have been `matches.' I can imagine that the word was taken
out of a dictionary, which would give the noun but not the plural.
The laconic style may be to conceal the absence of knowledge of English.
Yes, Watson, there are good reasons to suspect that there has been
a substitution of lodgers.''

{}``But for what possible end?''

{}``Ah!\ there lies our problem. There is one rather obvious line
of investigation.'' He took down the great book in which, day by
day, he filed the agony columns of the various London journals. {}``Dear
me!''\ said he, turning over the pages, {}``what a chorus of groans,
cries, and bleatings! What a rag-bag of singular happenings! But surely
the most valuable hunting-ground that ever was given to a student
of the unusual! This person is alone and cannot be approached by letter
without a breach of that absolute secrecy which is desired. How is
any news or any message to reach him from without? Obviously by advertisement
through a newspaper. There seems no other way, and fortunately we
need concern ourselves with the one paper only. Here are the \emph{Daily
Gazette} extracts of the last fortnight. `Lady with a black boa at
Prince's Skating Club'\mdsh{---}that we may pass. `Surely Jimmy
will not break his mother's heart'\mdsh{---}that appears to be irrelevant.
`If the lady who fainted on Brixton bus'\mdsh{---}she does not interest
me. `Every day my heart longs\mdsh{---}'\ Bleat, Watson\mdsh{---}unmitigated
bleat! Ah, this is a little more possible. Listen to this: `Be patient.
Will find some sure means of communications. Meanwhile, this column.
G.' That is two days after Mrs.\ Warren's lodger arrived. It sounds
plausible, does it not? The mysterious one could understand English,
even if he could not print it. Let us see if we can pick up the trace
again. Yes, here we are\mdsh{---}three days later. `Am making successful
arrangements. Patience and prudence. The clouds will pass. G.' Nothing
for a week after that. Then comes something much more definite: `The
path is clearing. If I find chance signal message remember code agreed\mdsh{---}One
A, two B, and so on. You will hear soon. G.' That was in yesterday's
paper, and there is nothing in to-day's. It's all very appropriate
to Mrs.\ Warren's lodger. If we wait a little, Watson, I don't doubt
that the affair will grow more intelligible.''

So it proved; for in the morning I found my friend standing on the
hearthrug with his back to the fire and a smile of complete satisfaction
upon his face.

{}``How's this, Watson?''\ he cried, picking up the paper from
the table.\  {}```High red house with white stone facings. Third
floor. Second window left. After dusk. G.' That is definite enough.
I think after breakfast we must make a little reconnaissance of Mrs.\ Warren's
neighbourhood. Ah, Mrs.\ Warren!\ what news do you bring us this
morning?''

Our client had suddenly burst into the room with an explosive energy
which told of some new and momentous development.

{}``It's a police matter, Mr.\ Holmes!''\ she cried. {}``I'll
have no more of it! He shall pack out of there with his baggage. I
would have gone straight up and told him so, only I thought it was
but fair to you to take your opinion first. But I'm at the end of
my patience, and when it comes to knocking my old man about\mdsh{---}''

{}``Knocking Mr.\ Warren about?''

{}``Using him roughly, anyway.''

{}``But who used him roughly?''

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-redc-02.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{Two men came up behind him, threw
a coat over his head, and bundled him into a cab.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
{}``Ah!\ that's what we want to know! It was this morning, sir.
Mr.\ Warren is a timekeeper at Morton and Waylight's, in Tottenham
Court Road. He has to be out of the house before seven. Well, this
morning he had not gone ten paces down the road when two men came
up behind him, threw a coat over his head, and bundled him into a
cab that was beside the curb. They drove him an hour, and then opened
the door and shot him out. He lay in the roadway so shaken in his
wits that he never saw what became of the cab. When he picked himself
up he found he was on Hampstead Heath; so he took a bus home, and
there he lies now on his sofa, while I came straight round to tell
you what had happened.''

{}``Most interesting,''\ said Holmes. {}``Did he observe the appearance
of these men\mdsh{---}did he hear them talk?''

{}``No; he is clean dazed. He just knows that he was lifted up as
if by magic and dropped as if by magic. Two a least were in it, and
maybe three.''

{}``And you connect this attack with your lodger?''

{}``Well, we've lived there fifteen years and no such happenings
ever came before. I've had enough of him. Money's not everything.
I'll have him out of my house before the day is done.''

{}``Wait a bit, Mrs.\ Warren. Do nothing rash. I begin to think
that this affair may be very much more important than appeared at
first sight. It is clear now that some danger is threatening your
lodger. It is equally clear that his enemies, lying in wait for him
near your door, mistook your husband for him in the foggy morning
light. On discovering their mistake they released him. What they would
have done had it not been a mistake, we can only conjecture.''

{}``Well, what am I to do, Mr.\ Holmes?''

{}``I have a great fancy to see this lodger of yours, Mrs.\ Warren.''

{}``I don't see how that is to be managed, unless you break in the
door. I always hear him unlock it as I go down the stair after I leave
the tray.''

{}``He has to take the tray in. Surely we could conceal ourselves
and see him do it.''

The landlady thought for a moment.

{}``Well, sir, there's the box-room opposite. I could arrange a looking-glass,
maybe, and if you were behind the door\mdsh{---}''

{}``Excellent!''\ said Holmes. {}``When does he lunch?''

{}``About one, sir.''

{}``Then Dr.\ Watson and I will come round in time. For the present,
Mrs.\ Warren, good-bye.''

At half-past twelve we found ourselves upon the steps of Mrs.\ Warren's
house\mdsh{---}a high, thin, yellow-brick edifice in Great Orme
Street, a narrow thoroughfare at the northeast side of the British
Museum. Standing as it does near the corner of the street, it commands
a view down Howe Street, with its more pretentious houses. Holmes
pointed with a chuckle to one of these, a row of residential flats,
which projected so that they could not fail to catch the eye.

{}``See, Watson!''\ said he.\  {}```High red house with stone
facings.' There is the signal station all right. We know the place,
and we know the code; so surely our task should be simple. There's
a `to let'\ card in that window. It is evidently an empty flat to
which the confederate has access. Well, Mrs.\ Warren, what now?''

{}``I have it all ready for you. If you will both come up and leave
your boots below on the landing, I'll put you there now.''

It was an excellent hiding-plate which she had arranged. The mirror
was so placed that, seated in the dark, we could very plainly see
the door opposite. We had hardly settled down in it, and Mrs.\ Warren
left us, when a distant tinkle announced that our mysterious neighbour
had rung. Presently the landlady appeared with the tray, laid it down
upon a chair beside the closed door, and then, treading heavily, departed.
Crouching together in the angle of the door, we kept our eyes fixed
upon the mirror. Suddenly, as the landlady's footsteps died away,
there was the creak of a turning key, the handle revolved, and two
thin hands darted out and lifted the tray form the chair. %
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics{lstbwetc-redc-03.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{I caught a glimpse of a dark, beautiful,
horrified face.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
An instant later it was hurriedly replaced, and I caught a glimpse
of a dark, beautiful, horrified face glaring at the narrow opening
of the box-room. Then the door crashed to, the key turned once more,
and all was silence. Holmes twitched my sleeve, and together we stole
down the stair.

{}``I will call again in the evening,''\ said he to the expectant
landlady. {}``I think, Watson, we can discuss this business better
in our own quarters.''

\bigskip{}
{}``My surmise, as you saw, proved to be correct,''\ said he, speaking
from the depths of his easy-chair. {}``There has been a substitution
of lodgers. What I did not foresee is that we should find a woman,
and no ordinary woman, Watson.''

{}``She saw us.''

{}``Well, she saw something to alarm her. That is certain. The general
sequence of events is pretty clear, is it not? A couple seek refuge
in London from a very terrible and instant danger. The measure of
that danger is the rigour of their precautions. The man, who has some
work which he must do, desires to leave the woman in absolute safety
while he does it. It is not an easy problem, but he solved it in an
original fashion, and so effectively that her presence was not even
known to the landlady who supplies her with food. The printed messages,
as is now evident, were to prevent her sex being discovered by her
writing. The man cannot come near the woman, or he will guide their
enemies to her. Since he cannot communicate with her direct, he has
recourse to the agony column of a paper. So far all is clear.''

{}``But what is at the root of it?''

{}``Ah, yes, Watson\mdsh{---}severely practical, as usual! What
is at the root of it all? Mrs.\ Warren's whimsical problem enlarges
somewhat and assumes a more sinister aspect as we proceed. This much
we can say: that it is no ordinary love escapade. You saw the woman's
face at the sign of danger. We have heard, too, of the attack upon
the landlord, which was undoubtedly meant for the lodger. These alarms,
and the desperate need for secrecy, argue that the matter is one of
life or death. The attack upon Mr.\ Warren further shows that the
enemy, whoever they are, are themselves not aware of the substitution
of the female lodger for the male. It is very curious and complex,
Watson.''

{}``Why should you go further in it? What have you to gain from it?''

{}``What, indeed? It is art for art's sake, Watson. I suppose when
you doctored you found yourself studying cases without thought of
a fee?''

{}``For my education, Holmes.''

{}``Education never ends, Watson. It is a series of lessons with
the greatest for the last. This is an instructive case. There is neither
money nor credit in it, and yet one would wish to tidy it up. When
dusk comes we should find ourselves one stage advanced in our investigation.''

When we returned to Mrs.\ Warren's rooms, the gloom of a London winter
evening had thickened into one gray curtain, a dead monotone of colour,
broken only by the sharp yellow squares of the windows and the blurred
haloes of the gas-lamps. As we peered from the darkened sitting-room
of the lodging-house, one more dim light glimmered high up through
the obscurity.

{}``Someone is moving in that room,''\ said Holmes in a whisper,
his gaunt and eager face thrust forward to the window-pane. {}``Yes,
I can see his shadow. There he is again! He has a candle in his hand.
Now he is peering across. He wants to be sure that she is on the lookout.
Now he begins to flash. Take the message also, Watson, that we may
check each other. A single flash\mdsh{---}that is A, surely. Now,
then. How many did you make it? Twenty. Do did I. That should mean
T.\  AT\mdsh{---}that's intelligible enough. Another T.\  Surely
this is the beginning of a second word. Now, then\mdsh{---}TENTA.
Dead stop. That can't be all, Watson? ATTENTA gives no sense. Nor
is it any better as three words AT, TEN, TA, unless T.\ A.\ are
a person's initials. There it goes again! What's that? ATTE\mdsh{---}why,
it is the same message over again. Curious, Watson, very curious.
Now he is off once more! AT\mdsh{---}why he is repeating it for
the third time. ATTENTA three times! How often will he repeat it?
No, that seems to be the finish. He has withdrawn form the window.
What do you make of it, Watson?''

{}``A cipher message, Holmes.''

My companion gave a sudden chuckle of comprehension. {}``And not
a very obscure cipher, Watson,''\ said he. {}``Why, of course,
it is Italian! The A means that it is addressed to a woman. `Beware!
Beware! Beware!' How's that, Watson?

{}``I believe you have hit it.''

{}``Not a doubt of it. It is a very urgent message, thrice repeated
to make it more so. But beware of what? Wait a bit, he is coming to
the window once more.''

Again we saw the dim silhouette of a crouching man and the whisk of
the small flame across the window as the signals were renewed. They
came more rapidly than before\mdsh{---}so rapid that it was hard
to follow them.

{}``PERICOLO\mdsh{---}PERICOLO\mdsh{---}\textit{\emph{eh}}, what's
that, Watson? `Danger,'\ isn't it? Yes, by Jove, it's a danger signal.
There he goes again! PERI. Halloa, what on earth\mdsh{---}''

The light had suddenly gone out, the glimmering square of window had
disappeared, and the third floor formed a dark band round the lofty
building, with its tiers of shining casements. That last warning cry
had been suddenly cut short. How, and by whom? The same thought occurred
on the instant to us both. Holmes sprang up from where he crouched
by the window.

{}``This is serious, Watson,''\ he cried. {}``There is some devilry
going forward! Why should such a message stop in such a way? I should
put Scotland Yard in touch with this business\mdsh{---}and yet,
it is too pressing for us to leave.''

{}``Shall I go for the police?''

{}``We must define the situation a little more clearly. It may bear
some more innocent interpretation. Come, Watson, let us go across
ourselves and see what we can make of it.''


\section*{2.}

As we walked rapidly down Howe Street I glanced back at the building
which we had left. There, dimly outlined at the top window, I could
see the shadow of a head, a woman's head, gazing tensely, rigidly,
out into the night, waiting with breathless suspense for the renewal
of that interrupted message. At the doorway of the Howe Street flats
a man, muffled in a cravat and greatcoat, was leaning against the
railing. He started as the hall-light fell upon our faces.

{}``Holmes!''\ he cried.

{}``Why, Gregson!''\ said my companion as he shook hands with the
Scotland Yard detective. {}``Journeys end with lovers'\ meetings.
What brings you here?''

{}``The same reasons that bring you, I expect,''\ said Gregson.
{}``How you got on to it I can't imagine.''

{}``Different threads, but leading up to the same tangle. I've been
taking the signals.''

{}``Signals?''

{}``Yes, from that window. They broke off in the middle. We came
over to see the reason. But since it is safe in your hands I see no
object in continuing this business.''

{}``Wait a bit!''\ cried Gregson eagerly. {}``I'll do you this
justice, Mr.\ Holmes, that I was never in a case yet that I didn't
feel stronger for having you on my side. There's only the one exit
to these flats, so we have him safe.''

{}``Who is he?''

{}``Well, well, we score over you for once, Mr.\ Holmes. You must
give us best this time.'' He struck his stick sharply upon the ground,
on which a cabman, his whip in his hand, sauntered over from a four-wheeler
which stood on the far side of the street. {}``May I introduce you
to Mr.\ Sherlock Holmes?''\ he said to the cabman. {}``This is
Mr.\ Leverton, of Pinkerton's American Agency.''

{}``The hero of the Long Island cave mystery?''\ said Holmes. {}``Sir,
I am pleased to meet you.''

The American, a quiet, businesslike young man, with a clean-shaven,
hatchet face, flushed up at the words of commendation. {}``I am on
the trail of my life now, Mr.\ Holmes,''\ said he. {}``If I can
get Gorgiano\mdsh{---}''

{}``What! Gorgiano of the Red Circle?''

{}``Oh, he has a European fame, has he? Well, we've learned all about
him in America. We \textit{know} he is at the bottom of fifty murders,
and yet we have nothing positive we can take him on. I tracked him
over from New York, and I've been close to him for a week in London,
waiting some excuse to get my hand on his collar. Mr.\ Gregson and
I ran him to ground in that big tenement house, and there's only one
door, so he can't slip us. There's three folk come out since he went
in, but I'll swear he wasn't one of them.''

{}``Mr.\ Holmes talks of signals,''\ said Gregson. {}``I expect,
as usual, he knows a good deal that we don't.''

In a few clear words Holmes explained the situation as it had appeared
to us. The American struck his hands together with vexation.

{}``He's on to us!''\ he cried.

{}``Why do you think so?''

{}``Well, it figures out that way, does it not? Here he is, sending
out messages to an accomplice\mdsh{---}there are several of his
gang in London. Then suddenly, just as by your own account he was
telling them that there was danger, he broke short off. What could
it mean except that from the window he had suddenly either caught
sight of us in the street, or in some way come to understand how close
the danger was, and that he must act right away if he was to avoid
it? What do you suggest, Mr.\ Holmes?''

{}``That we go up at once and see for ourselves.''

{}``But we have no warrant for his arrest.''

{}``He is in unoccupied premises under suspicious circumstances,''
said Gregson. {}``That is good enough for the moment. When we have
him by the heels we can see if New York can't help us to keep him.
I'll take the responsibility of arresting him now.''

Our official detectives may blunder in the matter of intelligence,
but never in that of courage. Gregson climbed the stair to arrest
this desperate murderer with the same absolutely quiet and businesslike
bearing with which he would have ascended the official staircase of
Scotland Yard. The Pinkerton man had tried to push past him, but Gregson
had firmly elbowed him back. London dangers were the privilege of
the London force.

The door of the left-hand flat upon the third landing was standing
ajar. Gregson pushed it open. Within all was absolute silence and
darkness. I struck a match and lit the detective's lantern. As I did
so, and as the flicker steadied into a flame, we all gave a gasp of
surprise. On the deal boards of the carpetless floor there was outlined
a fresh track of blood. The red steps pointed towards us and led away
from an inner room, the door of which was closed. Gregson flung it
open and held his light full blaze in front of him, while we all peered
eagerly over his shoulders.

In the middle of the floor of the empty room was huddled the figure
of an enormous man, his clean-shaven, swarthy face grotesquely horrible
in its contortion and his head encircled by a ghastly crimson halo
of blood, lying in a broad wet circle upon the white woodwork. His
knees were drawn up, his hands thrown out in agony, and from the centre
of his broad, brown, upturned throat there projected the white haft
of a knife driven blade-deep into his body. Giant as he was, the man
must have gone down like a pole-axed ox before that terrific blow.
Beside his right hand a most formidable horn-handled, two-edged dagger
lay upon the floor, and near it a black kid glove.

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics{lstbwetc-redc-04.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{{}``By George!\ it's Black Gorgiano
himself!''\ cried the American detective.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
{}``By George!\ it's Black Gorgiano himself!''\ cried the American
detective. {}``Someone has got ahead of us this time.''

{}``Here is the candle in the window, Mr.\ Holmes,''\ said Gregson.
{}``Why, whatever are you doing?''

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics{lstbwetc-redc-05.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{Holmes was passing it backward and
forward across the window-panes.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
Holmes had stepped across, had lit the candle, and was passing it
backward and forward across the window-panes. Then he peered into
the darkness, blew the candle out, and threw it on the floor.

{}``I rather think that will be helpful,''\ said he. He came over
and stood in deep thought while the two professionals were examining
the body. {}``You say that three people came out from the flat while
you were waiting downstairs,''\ said he at last. {}``Did you observe
them closely?''

{}``Yes, I did.''

{}``Was there a fellow about thirty, black-bearded, dark, of middle
size?''

{}``Yes; he was the last to pass me.''

{}``That is your man, I fancy. I can give you his description, and
we have a very excellent outline of his footmark. That should be enough
for you.''

{}``Not much, Mr.\ Holmes, among the millions of London.''

{}``Perhaps not. That is why I thought it best to summon this lady
to your aid.''

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-redc-06.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{Slowly she advanced, her face pale
and drawn with a frightful apprehension.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
We all turned round at the words. There, framed in the doorway, was
a tall and beautiful woman\mdsh{---}the mysterious lodger of Bloomsbury.
Slowly she advanced, her face pale and drawn with a frightful apprehension,
her eyes fixed and staring, her terrified gaze riveted upon the dark
figure on the floor.

{}``You have killed him!''\ she muttered. {}``\textit{\emph{Oh}},
\textit{Dio} \textit{mio}, you have killed him!''\  Then I heard
a sudden sharp intake of her breath, and she sprang into the air with
a cry of joy. Round and round the room she danced, her hands clapping,
her dark eyes gleaming with delighted wonder, and a thousand pretty
Italian exclamations pouring from her lips. It was terrible and amazing
to see such a woman so convulsed with joy at such a sight. Suddenly
she stopped and gazed at us all with a questioning stare.

{}``But you! You are police, are you not? You have killed Giuseppe
Gorgiano. Is it not so?''

{}``We are police, madam.''

She looked round into the shadows of the room.

{}``But where, then, is Gennaro?''\ she asked. {}``He is my husband,
Gennaro Lucca. I am Emilia Lucca, and we are both from New York.\ 
Where is Gennaro? He called me this moment from this window, and I
ran with all my speed.''

{}``It was I who called,''\ said Holmes.

{}``You! How could you call?''

{}``Your cipher was not difficult, madam. Your presence here was
desirable. I knew that I had only to flash `\emph{Vieni}'\ and you
would surely come.''

The beautiful Italian looked with awe at my companion.

{}``I do not understand how you know these things,''\ she said.
{}``Giuseppe Gorgiano\mdsh{---}how did he\mdsh{---}''\  She
paused, and then suddenly her face lit up with pride and delight.
{}``Now I see it! My Gennaro! My splendid, beautiful Gennaro, who
has guarded me safe from all harm, he did it, with his own strong
hand he killed the monster! Oh, Gennaro, how wonderful you are! What
woman could every be worthy of such a man?''

{}``Well, Mrs.\ Lucca,''\ said the prosaic Gregson, laying his
hand upon the lady's sleeve with as little sentiment as if she were
a Notting Hill hooligan, {}``I am not very clear yet who you are
or what you are; but you've said enough to make it very clear that
we shall want you at the Yard.''

{}``One moment, Gregson,''\ said Holmes. {}``I rather fancy that
this lady may be as anxious to give us information as we can be to
get it. You understand, madam, that your husband will be arrested
and tried for the death of the man who lies before us? What you say
may be used in evidence. But if you think that he has acted from motives
which are not criminal, and which he would wish to have known, then
you cannot serve him better than by telling us the whole story.''

{}``Now that Gorgiano is dead we fear nothing,''\ said the lady.
{}``He was a devil and a monster, and there can be no judge in the
world who would punish my husband for having killed him.''

{}``In that case,''\ said Holmes, {}``my suggestion is that we
lock this door, leave things as we found them, go with this lady to
her room, and form our opinion after we have heard what it is that
she has to say to us.''

Half an hour later we were seated, all four, in the small sitting-room
of Signora Lucca, listening to her remarkable narrative of those sinister
events, the ending of which we had chanced to witness. She spoke in
rapid and fluent but very unconventional English, which, for the sake
of clearness, I will make grammatical.

{}``I was born in Posilippo, near Naples,''\ said she, {}``and
was the daughter of Augusto Barelli, who was the chief lawyer and
once the deputy of that part. Gennaro was in my father's employment,
and I came to love him, as any woman must. He had neither money nor
position\mdsh{---}nothing but his beauty and strength and energy\mdsh{---}so
my father forbade the match. We fled together, were married at Bari,
and sold my jewels to gain the money which would take us to America.
This was four years ago, and we have been in New York ever since.

{}``Fortune was very good to us at first. Gennaro was able to do
a service to an Italian gentleman\mdsh{---}he saved him from some
ruffians in the place called the Bowery, and so made a powerful friend.
His name was Tito Castalotte, and he was the senior partner of the
great firm of Castalotte and Zamba, who are the chief fruit importers
of New York. Signor Zamba is an invalid, and our new friend Castalotte
has all power within the firm, which employs more than three hundred
men. He took my husband into his employment, made him head of a department,
and showed his good-will towards him in every way. Signor Castalotte
was a bachelor, and I believe that he felt as if Gennaro was his son,
and both my husband and I loved him as if he were our father. We had
taken and furnished a little house in Brooklyn, and our whole future
seemed assured when that black cloud appeared which was soon to overspread
our sky.

{}``One night, when Gennaro returned from his work, he brought a
fellow-countryman back with him. His name was Gorgiano, and he had
come also from Posilippo. He was a huge man, as you can testify, for
you have looked upon his corpse. Not only was his body that of a giant
but everything about him was grotesque, gigantic, and terrifying.
His voice was like thunder in our little house. There was scarce room
for the whirl of his great arms as he talked. His thoughts, his emotions,
his passions, all were exaggerated and monstrous. He talked, or rather
roared, with such energy that others could but sit and listen, cowed
with the mighty stream of words. His eyes blazed at you and held you
at his mercy. He was a terrible and wonderful man. I thank God that
he is dead!

{}``He came again and again. Yet I was aware that Gennaro was no
more happy than I was in his presence. My poor husband would sit pale
and listless, listening to the endless raving upon politics and upon
social questions which made up or visitor's conversation. Gennaro
said nothing, but I, who knew him so well, could read in his face
some emotion which I had never seen there before. At first I thought
that it was dislike. And then, gradually, I understood that it was
more than dislike. It was fear\mdsh{---}a deep, secret, shrinking
fear. That night\mdsh{---}the night that I read his terror\mdsh{---}I
put my arms round him and I implored him by his love for me and by
all that he held dear to hold nothing from me, and to tell me why
this huge man overshadowed him so.

{}``He told me, and my own heart grew cold as ice as I listened.
My poor Gennaro, in his wild and fiery days, when all the world seemed
against him and his mind was driven half mad by the injustices of
life, had joint a Neapolitan society, the Red Circle, which was allied
to the old Carbonari. The oaths and secrets of this brotherhood were
frightful, but once within its rule no escape was possible. When we
had fled to America Gennaro thought that he had cast it all off forever.
What was his horror one evening to meet in the streets the very man
who had initiated him in Naples, the giant Gorgiano, a man who had
earned the name of `Death'\ in the south of Italy, for he was red
to the elbow in murder! He had come to New York to avoid the Italian
police, and he had already planted a branch of this dreadful society
in his new home. All this Gennaro told me and showed me a summons
which he had received that very day, a Red Circle drawn upon the head
of it telling him that a lodge would be held upon a certain date,
and that his presence at it was required and ordered.

{}``That was bad enough, but worse was to come. I had noticed for
some time that when Gorgiano came to us, as he constantly did, in
the evening, he spoke much to me; and even when his words were to
my husband those terrible, glaring, wild-beast eyes of his were always
turned upon me. One night his secret came out. I had awakened what
he called `love'\ within him\mdsh{---}the love of a brute\mdsh{---}a
savage. Gennaro had not yet returned when he came. He pushed his way
in, seized me in his mighty arms, hugged me in his bear's embrace,
covered me with kisses, and implored me to come away with him. I was
struggling and screaming when Gennaro entered and attacked him. He
struck Gennaro senseless and fled from the house which he was never
more to enter. It was a deadly enemy that we made that night.

{}``A few days later came the meeting. Gennaro returned from it with
a face which told me that something dreadful had occurred. It was
worse than we could have imagined possible. The funds of the society
were raised by blackmailing rich Italians and threatening them with
violence should they refuse the money. It seems that Castalotte, our
dear friend and benefactor, had been approached. He had refused to
yield to threats, and he had handed the notices to the police. It
was resolved now that such an example should be made of them as would
prevent any other victim from rebelling. At the meeting it was arranged
that he and his house should be blown up with dynamite. There was
a drawing of lots as to who should carry out the deed. Gennaro saw
our enemy's cruel face smiling at him as he dipped his hand in the
bag. No doubt it had been prearranged in some fashion, for it was
the fatal disc with the Red Circle upon it, the mandate for murder,
which lay upon his palm. He was to kill his best friend, or he was
to expose himself and me to the vengeance of his comrades. It was
part of their fiendish system to punish those whom they feared or
hated by injuring not only their own persons but those whom they loved,
and it was the knowledge of this which hung as a terror over my poor
Gennaro's head and drove him nearly crazy with apprehension.

{}``All that night we sat together, our arms round each other, each
strengthening each for the troubles that lay before us. The very next
evening had been fixed for the attempt. By midday my husband and I
were on our way to London, but not before he had given our benefactor
full warning of this danger, and had also left such information for
the police as would safeguard his life for the future.

{}``The rest, gentlemen, you know for yourselves. We were sure that
our enemies would be behind us like our own shadows. Gorgiano had
his private reasons for vengeance, but in any case we knew how ruthless,
cunning, and untiring he could be. Both Italy and America are full
of stories of his dreadful powers. If ever they were exerted it would
be now. My darling made use of the few clear days which our start
had given us in arranging for a refuge for me in such a fashion that
no possible danger could reach me. For his own part, he wished to
be free that he might communicate both with the American and with
the Italian police. I do not myself know where he lived, or how. All
that I learned was through the columns of a newspaper. But once as
I looked through my window, I saw two Italians watching the house,
and I understood that in some way Gorgiano had found our retreat.
Finally Gennaro told me, through the paper, that he would signal to
me from a certain window, but when the signals came they were nothing
but warnings, which were suddenly interrupted. It is very clear to
me now that he knew Gorgiano to be close upon him, and that, thank
God!\ he was ready for him when he came. And now, gentleman, I would
ask you whether we have anything to fear from the law, or whether
any judge upon earth would condemn my Gennaro for what he has done?''

{}``Well, Mr.\ Gregson,''\ said the American, looking across at
the official, {}``I don't know what your British point of view may
be, but I guess that in New York this lady's husband will receive
a pretty general vote of thanks.''

{}``She will have to come with me and see the chief,''\ Gregson
answered. {}``If what she says is corroborated, I do not think she
or her husband has much to fear. But what I can't make head or tail
of, Mr.\ Holmes, is how on earth \textit{you} got yourself mixed
up in the matter.''

{}``Education, Gregson, education. Still seeking knowledge at the
old university. Well, Watson, you have one more specimen of the tragic
and grotesque to add to your collection. By the way, it is not eight
o'clock, and a Wagner night at Covent Garden! If we hurry, we might
be in time for the second act.''


\chapter*{\raggedright The Adventure of the Bruce-\linebreak[1]Partington
Plans{\large }\protect \\
{\large Illustrations by Arthur Twidle} }

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{The Adventure of the\\
Bruce-Partington Plans}

\markboth{His Last Bow}{The Bruce-Partington Plans}

In the third week of November, in the year 1895, a dense yellow fog
settled down upon London. From the Monday to the Thursday I doubt
whether it was ever possible from our windows in Baker Street to see
the loom of the opposite houses. The first day Holmes had spent in
cross-indexing his huge book of references. The second and third had
been patiently occupied upon a subject which he had recently made
his hobby\mdsh{---}the music of the Middle Ages. But when, for the
fourth time, after pushing back our chairs from breakfast we saw the
greasy, heavy brown swirl still drifting past us and condensing in
oily drops upon the window-panes, my comrade's impatient and active
nature could endure this drab existence no longer. He paced restlessly
about our sitting-room in a fever of suppressed energy, biting his
nails, tapping the furniture, and chafing against inaction.

{}``Nothing of interest in the paper, Watson?''\ he said.

I was aware that by anything of interest, Holmes meant anything of
criminal interest. There was the news of a revolution, of a possible
war, and of an impending change of government; but these did not come
within the horizon of my companion. I could see nothing recorded in
the shape of crime which was not commonplace and futile. Holmes groaned
and resumed his restless meanderings.

{}``The London criminal is certainly a dull fellow,''\ said he
in the querulous voice of the sportsman whose game has failed him.
{}``Look out this window, Watson. See how the figures loom up, are
dimly seen, and then blend once more into the cloud-bank. The thief
or the murderer could roam London on such a day as the tiger does
the jungle, unseen until he pounces, and then evident only to his
victim.''

{}``There have,''\ said I, {}``been numerous petty thefts.''

Holmes snorted his contempt.

{}``This great and sombre stage is set for something more worthy
than that,''\ said he. {}``It is fortunate for this community that
I am not a criminal.''

{}``It is, indeed!''\ said I heartily.

{}``Suppose that I were Brooks or Woodhouse, or any of the fifty
men who have good reason for taking my life, how long could I survive
against my own pursuit? A summons, a bogus appointment, and all would
be over. It is well they don't have days of fog in the Latin countries\mdsh{---}the
countries of assassination. By Jove!\ here comes something at last
to break our dead monotony.''

It was the maid with a telegram. Holmes tore it open and burst out
laughing.

{}``Well, well! What next?''\ said he. {}``Brother Mycroft is
coming round.''

{}``Why not?''\ I asked.

{}``Why not? It is as if you met a tram-car coming down a country
lane. Mycroft has his rails and he runs on them. His Pall Mall lodgings,
the Diogenes Club, Whitehall\mdsh{---}that is his cycle. Once, and
only once, he has been here. What upheaval can possibly have derailed
him?''

{}``Does he not explain?''

Holmes handed me his brother's telegram.

\begin{quotation}
\noindent \noun{Must see you over Cadogen West. Coming at once.}

\noun{\hspace{\stretch{1}}Mycroft.}
\end{quotation}
{}``Cadogen West? I have heard the name.''

{}``It recalls nothing to my mind. But that Mycroft should break
out in this erratic fashion! A planet might as well leave its orbit.
By the way, do you know what Mycroft is?''

I had some vague recollection of an explanation at the time of the
Adventure of the Greek Interpreter.

{}``You told me that he had some small office under the British government.''

Holmes chuckled.

{}``I did not know you quite so well in those days. One has to be
discreet when one talks of high matters of state. You are right in
thinking that he under the British government. You would also be right
in a sense if you said that occasionally he \textit{is} the British
government.''

{}``My dear Holmes!''

{}``I thought I might surprise you. Mycroft draws four hundred and
fifty pounds a year, remains a subordinate, has no ambitions of any
kind, will receive neither honour nor title, but remains the most
indispensable man in the country.''

{}``But how?''

{}``Well, his position is unique. He has made it for himself. There
has never been anything like it before, nor will be again. He has
the tidiest and most orderly brain, with the greatest capacity for
storing facts, of any man living. The same great powers which I have
turned to the detection of crime he has used for this particular business.
The conclusions of every department are passed to him, and he is the
central exchange, the clearinghouse, which makes out the balance.
All other men are specialists, but his specialism is omniscience.
We will suppose that a minister needs information as to a point which
involves the Navy, India, Canada and the bimetallic question; he could
get his separate advices from various departments upon each, but only
Mycroft can focus them all, and say offhand how each factor would
affect the other. They began by using him as a short-cut, a convenience;
now he has made himself an essential. In that great brain of his everything
is pigeon-holed and can be handed out in an instant. Again and again
his word has decided the national policy. He lives in it. He thinks
of nothing else save when, as an intellectual exercise, he unbends
if I call upon him and ask him to advise me on one of my little problems.
But Jupiter is descending to-day. What on earth can it mean? Who is
Cadogan West, and what is he to Mycroft?''

{}``I have it,''\ I cried, and plunged among the litter of papers
upon the sofa. {}``Yes, yes, here he is, sure enough! Cadogen West
was the young man who was found dead on the Underground on Tuesday
morning.''

Holmes sat up at attention, his pipe halfway to his lips.

{}``This must be serious, Watson. A death which has caused my brother
to alter his habits can be no ordinary one. What in the world can
he have to do with it? The case was featureless as I remember it.
The young man had apparently fallen out of the train and killed himself.
He had not been robbed, and there was no particular reason to suspect
violence. Is that not so?''

{}``There has been an inquest,''\ said I, {}``and a good many
fresh facts have come out. Looked at more closely, I should certainly
say that it was a curious case.''

{}``Judging by its effect upon my brother, I should think it must
be a most extraordinary one.'' He snuggled down in his armchair.
{}``Now, Watson, let us have the facts.''

{}``The man's name was Arthur Cadogan West. He was twenty-seven years
of age, unmarried, and a clerk at Woolwich Arsenal.''

{}``Government employ. Behold the link with Brother Mycroft!''

{}``He left Woolwich suddenly on Monday night. Was last seen by his
fiancee, Miss Violet Westbury, whom he left abruptly in the fog about
7:30 that evening. There was no quarrel between them and she can give
no motive for his action. The next thing heard of him was when his
dead body was discovered by a plate-layer named Mason, just outside
Aldgate Station on the Underground system in London.''

{}``When?''

{}``The body was found at six on Tuesday morning. It was lying wide
of the metals upon the left hand of the track as one goes eastward,
at a point close to the station, where the line emerges from the tunnel
in which it runs. The head was badly crushed\mdsh{---}an injury
which might well have been caused by a fall from the train. The body
could only have come on the line in that way. Had it been carried
down from any neighbouring street, it must have passed the station
barriers, where a collector is always standing. This point seems absolutely
certain.''

{}``Very good. The case is definite enough. The man, dead or alive,
either fell or was precipitated from a train. So much is clear to
me. Continue.''

{}``The trains which traverse the lines of rail beside which the
body was found are those which run from west to east, some being purely
Metropolitan, and some from Willesden and outlying junctions. It can
be stated for certain that this young man, when he met his death,
was travelling in this direction at some late hour of the night, but
at what point he entered the train it is impossible to state.''

{}``His ticket, of course, would show that.''

{}``There was no ticket in his pockets.''

{}``No ticket! Dear me, Watson, this is really very singular. According
to my experience it is not possible to reach the platform of a Metropolitan
train without exhibiting one's ticket. Presumably, then, the young
man had one. Was it taken from him in order to conceal the station
from which he came? It is possible. Or did he drop it in the carriage?
That is also possible. But the point is of curious interest. I understand
that there was no sign of robbery?''

{}``Apparently not. There is a list here of his possessions. His
purse contained two pounds fifteen. He had also a check-book on the
Woolwich branch of the Capital and Counties Bank. Through this his
identity was established. There were also two dress-circle tickets
for the Woolwich Theatre, dated for that very evening. Also a small
packet of technical papers.''

Holmes gave an exclamation of satisfaction.

{}``There we have it at last, Watson! British government\mdsh{---}Woolwich.
Arsenal\mdsh{---}technical papers\mdsh{---}Brother Mycroft, the
chain is complete. But here he comes, if I am not mistaken, to speak
for himself.''

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-bruc-01.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{A moment later the tall and portly
form of Mycroft Holmes was ushered into the room.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
A moment later the tall and portly form of Mycroft Holmes was ushered
into the room. Heavily built and massive, there was a suggestion of
uncouth physical inertia in the figure, but above this unwieldy frame
there was perched a head so masterful in its brow, so alert in its
steel-gray, deep-set eyes, so firm in its lips, and so subtle in its
play of expression, that after the first glance one forgot the gross
body and remembered only the dominant mind.

At his heels came our old friend Lestrade, of Scotland Yard\mdsh{---}thin
and austere. The gravity of both their faces foretold some weighty
quest. The detective shook hands without a word. Mycroft Holmes struggled
out of his overcoat and subsided into an armchair.

{}``A most annoying business, Sherlock,''\ said he. {}``I extremely
dislike altering my habits, but the powers that be would take no denial.
In the present state of Siam it is most awkward that I should be away
from the office. But it is a real crisis. I have never seen the Prime
Minister so upset. As to the Admiralty\mdsh{---}it is buzzing like
an overturned bee-hive. Have you read up the case?''

{}``We have just done so. What were the technical papers?''

{}``Ah, there's the point! Fortunately, it has not come out. The
press would be furious if it did. The papers which this wretched youth
had in his pocket were the plans of the Bruce-Partington submarine.''

Mycroft Holmes spoke with a solemnity which showed his sense of the
importance of the subject. His brother and I sat expectant.

{}``Surely you have heard of it? I thought everyone had heard of
it.''

{}``Only as a name.''

{}``Its importance can hardly be exaggerated. It has been the most
jealously guarded of all government secrets. You may take it from
me that naval warfare becomes impossible withing the radius of a Bruce-Partington's
operation. Two years ago a very large sum was smuggled through the
Estimates and was expended in acquiring a monopoly of the invention.
Every effort has been made to keep the secret. The plans, which are
exceedingly intricate, comprising some thirty separate patents, each
essential to the working of the whole, are kept in an elaborate safe
in a confidential office adjoining the arsenal, with burglar-proof
doors and windows. Under no conceivable circumstances were the plans
to be taken from the office. If the chief constructor of the Navy
desired to consult them, even he was forced to go to the Woolwich
office for the purpose. And yet here we find them in the pocket of
a dead junior clerk in the heart of London. From an official point
of view it's simply awful.''

{}``But you have recovered them?''

{}``No, Sherlock, no! That's the pinch. We have not. Ten papers were
taken from Woolwich. There were seven in the pocket of Cadogan West.
The three most essential are gone\mdsh{---}stolen, vanished. You
must drop everything, Sherlock. Never mind your usual petty puzzles
of the police-court. It's a vital international problem that you have
to solve. Why did Cadogan West take the papers, where are the missing
ones, how did he die, how came his body where it was found, how can
the evil be set right? Find an answer to all these questions, and
you will have done good service for your country.''

{}``Why do you not solve it yourself, Mycroft? You can see as far
as I.''

{}``Possibly, Sherlock. But it is a question of getting details.
Give me your details, and from an armchair I will return you an excellent
expert opinion. But to run here and run there, to cross-question railway
guards, and lie on my face with a lens to my eye\mdsh{---}it is
not my \emph{m\'{e}tier}. No, you are the one man who can clear the
matter up. If you have a fancy to see your name in the next honours
list\mdsh{---}''

My friend smiled and shook his head.

{}``I play the game for the game's own sake,''\ said he. {}``But
the problem certainly presents some points of interest, and I shall
be very pleased to look into it. Some more facts, please.''

{}``I have jotted down the more essential ones upon this sheet of
paper, together with a few addresses which you will find of service.
The actual official guardian of the papers is the famous government
expert, Sir James Walter, whose decorations and sub-titles fill two
lines of a book of reference. He has grown gray in the service, is
a gentleman, a favoured guest in the most exalted houses, and, above
all, a man whose patriotism is beyond suspicion. He is one of two
who have a key of the safe. I may add that the papers were undoubtedly
in the office during working hours on Monday, and that Sir James left
for London about three o'clock taking his key with him. He was at
the house of Admiral Sinclair at Barclay Square during the whole of
the evening when this incident occurred.''

{}``Has the fact been verified?''

{}``Yes; his brother, Colonel Valentine Walter, has testified to
his departure from Woolwich, and Admiral Sinclair to his arrival in
London; so Sir James is no longer a direct factor in the problem.''

{}``Who was the other man with a key?''

{}``The senior clerk and draughtsman, Mr.\ Sidney Johnson. He is
a man of forty, married, with five children. He is a silent, morose
man, but he has, on the whole, an excellent record in the public service.
He is unpopular with his colleagues, but a hard worker. According
to his own account, corroborated only by the word of his wife, he
was at home the whole of Monday evening after office hours, and his
key has never left the watch-chain upon which it hangs.''

{}``Tell us about Cadogan West.''

{}``He has been ten years in the service and has done good work.
He has the reputation of being hot-headed and imperious, but a straight,
honest man. We have nothing against him. He was next Sidney Johnson
in the office. His duties brought him into daily, personal contact
with the plans. No one else had the handling of them.''

{}``Who locked up the plans that night?''

{}``Mr.\ Sidney Johnson, the senior clerk.''

{}``Well, it is surely perfectly clear who took them away. They are
actually found upon the person of this junior clerk, Cadogan West.
That seems final, does it not?''

{}``It does, Sherlock, and yet it leaves so much unexplained. In
the first place, why did he take them?''

{}``I presume they were of value?''

{}``He could have got several thousands for them very easily.''

{}``Can you suggest any possible motive for taking the papers to
London except to sell them?''

{}``No, I cannot.''

{}``Then we must take that as our working hypothesis. Young West
took the papers. Now this could only be done by having a false key\mdsh{---}''

{}``Several false keys. He had to open the building and the room.''

{}``He had, then, several false keys. He took the papers to London
to sell the secret, intending, no doubt, to have the plans themselves
back in the safe next morning before they were missed. While in London
on this treasonable mission he met his end.''

{}``How?''

{}``We will suppose that he was travelling back to Woolwich when
he was killed and thrown out of the compartment.''

{}``Aldgate, where the body was found, is considerably past the station
for London Bridge, which would be his route to Woolwich.''

{}``Many circumstances could be imagined under which he would pass
London Bridge. There was someone in the carriage, for example, with
whom he was having an absorbing interview. This interview led to a
violent scene in which he lost his life. Possibly he tried to leave
the carriage, fell out on the line, and so met his end. The other
closed the door. There was a thick fog, and nothing could be seen.''

{}``No better explanation can be given with our present knowledge;
and yet consider, Sherlock, how much you leave untouched. We will
suppose, for argument's sake, that young Cadogan West \textit{had}
determined to convey these papers to London. He would naturally have
made an appointment with the foreign agent and kept his evening clear.
Instead of that he took two tickets for the theatre, escorted his
fiancee halfway there, and then suddenly disappeared.''

{}``A blind,''\ said Lestrade, who had sat listening with some
impatience to the conversation.

{}``A very singular one. That is objection No.\ 1. Objection No.\ 2:
We will suppose that he reaches London and sees the foreign agent.
He must bring back the papers before morning or the loss will be discovered.
He took away ten. Only seven were in his pocket. What had become of
the other three? He certainly would not leave them of his own free
will. Then, again, where is the price of his treason? Once would have
expected to find a large sum of money in his pocket.''

{}``It seems to me perfectly clear,''\ said Lestrade. {}``I have
no doubt at all as to what occurred. He took the papers to sell them.
He saw the agent. They could not agree as to price. He started home
again, but the agent went with him. In the train the agent murdered
him, took the more essential papers, and threw his body from the carriage.
That would account for everything, would it not?''

{}``Why had he no ticket?''

{}``The ticket would have shown which station was nearest the agent's
house. Therefore he took it from the murdered man's pocket.''

{}``Good, Lestrade, very good,''\ said Holmes. {}``Your theory
holds together. But if this is true, then the case is at an end. On
the one hand, the traitor is dead. On the other, the plans of the
Bruce-Partington submarine are presumably already on the Continent.
What is there for us to do?''

{}``To act, Sherlock\mdsh{---}to act!''\ cried Mycroft, springing
to his feet. {}``All my instincts are against this explanation. Use
your powers! Go to the scene of the crime! See the people concerned!
Leave no stone unturned! In all your career you have never had so
great a chance of serving your country.''

{}``Well, well!''\ said Holmes, shrugging his shoulders. {}``Come,
Watson! And you, Les\-trade, could you favour us with your company
for an hour or two? We will begin our investigation by a visit to
Aldgate Station. Good-bye, Mycroft. I shall let you have a report
before evening, but I warn you in advance that you have little to
expect.''

An hour later Holmes, Lestrade and I stood upon the Underground railroad
at the point where it emerges from the tunnel immediately before Aldgate
Station. A courteous red-faced old gentleman represented the railway
company.

{}``This is where the young man's body lay,''\ said he, indicating
a spot about three feet from the metals. {}``It could not have fallen
from above, for these, as you see, are all blank walls. Therefore,
it could only have come from a train, and that train, so far as we
can trace it, must have passed about midnight on Monday.''

{}``Have the carriages been examined for any sign of violence?''

{}``There are no such signs, and no ticket has been found.''

{}``No record of a door being found open?''

{}``None.''

{}``We have had some fresh evidence this morning,''\ said Lestrade.
{}``A passenger who passed Aldgate in an ordinary Metropolitan train
about 11:40 on Monday night declares that he heard a heavy thud, as
of a body striking the line, just before the train reached the station.
There was dense fog, however, and nothing could be seen. He made no
report of it at the time. Why, whatever is the matter with Mr.\ Holmes?''

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-bruc-02.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{My friend was standing with an expression
of strained intensity upon his face.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
My friend was standing with an expression of strained intensity upon
his face, staring at the railway metals where they curved out of the
tunnel. Aldgate is a junction, and there was a network of points.
On these his eager, questioning eyes were fixed, and I saw on his
keen, alert face that tightening of the lips, that quiver of the nostrils,
and concentration of the heavy, tufted brows which I knew so well.

{}``Points,''\ he muttered; {}``the points.''

{}``What of it? What do you mean?''

{}``I suppose there are no great number of points on a system such
as this?''

{}``No; they are very few.''

{}``And a curve, too. Points, and a curve. By Jove!\ if it were
only so.''

{}``What is it, Mr.\ Holmes? Have you a clue?''

{}``An idea\mdsh{---}an indication, no more. But the case certainly
grows in interest. Unique, perfectly unique, and yet why not? I do
not see any indications of bleeding on the line.''

{}``There were hardly any.''

{}``But I understand that there was a considerable wound.''

{}``The bone was crushed, but there was no great external injury.''

{}``And yet one would have expected some bleeding. Would it be possible
for me to inspect the train which contained the passenger who heard
the thud of a fall in the fog?''

{}``I fear not, Mr.\ Holmes. The train has been broken up before
now, and the carriages redistributed.''

{}``I can assure you, Mr.\ Holmes,''\ said Lestrade, {}``that
every carriage has been carefully examined. I saw to it myself.''

It was one of my friend's most obvious weaknesses that he was impatient
with less alert intelligences than his own.

{}``Very likely,''\ said he, turning away. {}``As it happens,
it was not the carriages which I desired to examine. Watson, we have
done all we can here. We need not trouble you any further, Mr.\ Lestrade.
I think our investigations must now carry us to Woolwich.''

At London Bridge, Holmes wrote a telegram to his brother, which he
handed to me before dispatching it. It ran thus:\ 

\begin{quotation}
\noindent See some light in the darkness, but it may possibly flicker
out. Meanwhile, please send by messenger, to await return at Baker
Street, a complete list of all foreign spies or international agents
known to be in England, with full address.\nopagebreak[4]

\hspace{\stretch{1}}\noun{Sherlock}.
\end{quotation}
{}

{}``That should be helpful, Watson,''\ he remarked as we took our
seats in the Woolwich train. {}``We certainly owe Brother Mycroft
a debt for having introduced us to what promises to be a really very
remarkable case.''

His eager face still wore that expression of intense and high-strung
energy, which showed me that some novel and suggestive circumstance
had opened up a stimulating line of thought. See the foxhound with
hanging ears and drooping tail as it lolls about the kennels, and
compare it with the same hound as, with gleaming eyes and straining
muscles, it runs upon a breast-high scent\mdsh{---}such was the
change in Holmes since the morning. He was a different man from the
limp and lounging figure in the mouse-coloured dressing-gown who had
prowled so restlessly only a few hours before round the fog-girt room.

{}``There is material here. There is scope,''\ said he. {}``I
am dull indeed not to have understood its possibilities.''

{}``Even now they are dark to me.''

{}``The end is dark to me also, but I have hold of one idea which
may lead us far. The man met his death elsewhere, and his body was
on the \textit{roof} of a carriage.''

{}``On the roof!''

{}``Remarkable, is it not? But consider the facts. Is it a coincidence
that it is found at the very point where the train pitches and sways
as it comes round on the points? Is not that the place where an object
upon the roof might be expected to fall off? The points would affect
no object inside the train. Either the body fell from the roof, or
a very curious coincidence has occurred. But now consider the question
of the blood. Of course, there was no bleeding on the line if the
body had bled elsewhere. Each fact is suggestive in itself. Together
they have a cumulative force.''

{}``And the ticket, too!''\ I cried.

{}``Exactly. We could not explain the absence of a ticket. This would
explain it. Everything fits together.''

{}``But suppose it were so, we are still as far as ever from unravelling
the mystery of his death. Indeed, it becomes not simpler but stranger.''

{}``Perhaps,''\ said Holmes, thoughtfully, {}``perhaps.'' He
relapsed into a silent reverie, which lasted until the slow train
drew up at last in Woolwich Station. There he called a cab and drew
Mycroft's paper from his pocket.

{}``We have quite a little round of afternoon calls to make,''\ said
he. {}``I think that Sir James Walter claims our first attention.''

The house of the famous official was a fine villa with green lawns
stretching down to the Thames. As we reached it the fog was lifting,
and a thin, watery sunshine was breaking through. A butler answered
our ring.

{}``Sir James, sir!''\ said he with solemn face. {}``Sir James
died this morning.''

{}``Good heavens!''\ cried Holmes in amazement. {}``How did he
die?''

{}``Perhaps you would care to step in, sir, and see his brother,
Colonel Valentine?''

{}``Yes, we had best do so.''

We were ushered into a dim-lit drawing-room, where an instant later
we were joined by a very tall, handsome, light-bearded man of fifty,
the younger brother of the dead scientist. His wild eyes, stained
cheeks, and unkempt hair all spoke of the sudden blow which had fallen
upon the household. He was hardly articulate as he spoke of it.

{}``It was this horrible scandal,''\ said he. {}``My brother,
Sir James, was a man of very sensitive honour, and he could not survive
such an affair. It broke his heart. He was always so proud of the
efficiency of his department, and this was a crushing blow.''

{}``We had hoped that he might have given us some indications which
would have helped us to clear the matter up.''

{}``I assure you that it was all a mystery to him as it is to you
and to all of us. He had already put all his knowledge at the disposal
of the police. Naturally he had no doubt that Cadogan West was guilty.
But all the rest was inconceivable.''

{}``You cannot throw any new light upon the affair?''

{}``I know nothing myself save what I have read or heard. I have
no desire to be discourteous, but you can understand, Mr.\ Holmes,
that we are much disturbed at present, and I must ask you to hasten
this interview to an end.''

{}``This is indeed an unexpected development,''\ said my friend
when we had regained the cab. {}``I wonder if the death was natural,
or whether the poor old fellow killed himself! If the latter, may
it be taken as some sign of self-reproach for duty neglected? We must
leave that question to the future. Now we shall turn to the Cadogan
Wests.''

A small but well-kept house in the outskirts of the town sheltered
the bereaved mother. The old lady was too dazed with grief to be of
any use to us, but at her side was a white-faced young lady, who introduced
herself as Miss Violet Westbury, the fiancee of the dead man, and
the last to see him upon that fatal night.

{}``I cannot explain it, Mr.\ Holmes,''\ she said. {}``I have
not shut an eye since the tragedy, thinking, thinking, thinking, night
and day, what the true meaning of it can be. Arthur was the most single-minded,
chivalrous, patriotic man upon earth. He would have cut his right
hand off before he would sell a State secret confided to his keeping.
It is absurd, impossible, preposterous to anyone who knew him.''

{}``But the facts, Miss Westbury?''

{}``Yes, yes; I admit I cannot explain them.''

{}``Was he in any want of money?''

{}``No; his needs were very simple and his salary ample. He had saved
a few hundreds, and we were to marry at the New Year.''

{}``No signs of any mental excitement? Come, Miss Westbury, be absolutely
frank with us.''

The quick eye of my companion had noted some change in her manner.
She coloured and hesitated.

{}``Yes,''\ she said at last, {}``I had a feeling that there was
something on his mind.''

{}``For long?''

{}``Only for the last week or so. He was thoughtful and worried.
Once I pressed him about it. He admitted that there was something,
and that it was concerned with his official life. `It is too serious
for me to speak about, even to you,'\ said he. I could get nothing
more.''

Holmes looked grave.

{}``Go on, Miss Westbury. Even if it seems to tell against him, go
on. We cannot say what it may lead to.''

{}``Indeed, I have nothing more to tell. Once or twice it seemed
to me that he was on the point of telling me something. He spoke one
evening of the importance of the secret, and I have some recollection
that he said that no doubt foreign spies would pay a great deal to
have it.''

My friend's face grew graver still.

{}``Anything else?''

{}``He said that we were slack about such matters\mdsh{---}that
it would be easy for a traitor to get the plans.''

{}``Was it only recently that he made such remarks?''

{}``Yes, quite recently.''

{}``Now tell us of that last evening.''

{}``We were to go to the theatre. The fog was so thick that a cab
was useless. We walked, and our way took us close to the office. Suddenly
he darted away into the fog.''

{}``Without a word?''

{}``He gave an exclamation; that was all. I waited but he never returned.
Then I walked home. Next morning, after the office opened, they came
to inquire. About twelve o'clock we heard the terrible news. Oh, Mr.\ Holmes,
if you could only, only save his honour! It was so much to him.''

Holmes shook his head sadly.

{}``Come, Watson,''\ said he, {}``our ways lie elsewhere. Our
next station must be the office from which the papers were taken.

{}``It was black enough before against this young man, but our inquiries
make it blacker,''\ he remarked as the cab lumbered off. {}``His
coming marriage gives a motive for the crime. He naturally wanted
money. The idea was in his head, since he spoke about it. He nearly
made the girl an accomplice in the treason by telling her his plans.
It is all very bad.''

{}``But surely, Holmes, character goes for something? Then, again,
why should he leave the girl in the street and dart away to commit
a felony?''

{}``Exactly! There are certainly objections. But it is a formidable
case which they have to meet.''

Mr.\ Sidney Johnson, the senior clerk, met us at the office and received
us with that respect which my companion's card always commanded. He
was a thin, gruff, bespectacled man of middle age, his cheeks haggard,
and his hands twitching from the nervous strain to which he had been
subjected.

{}``It is bad, Mr.\ Holmes, very bad! Have you heard of the death
of the chief?''

{}``We have just come from his house.''

{}``The place is disorganized. The chief dead, Cadogan West dead,
our papers stolen. And yet, when we closed our door on Monday evening,
we were as efficient an office as any in the government service. Good
God, it's dreadful to think of! That West, of all men, should have
done such a thing!''

{}``You are sure of his guilt, then?''

{}``I can see no other way out of it. And yet I would have trusted
him as I trust myself.''

{}``At what hour was the office closed on Monday?''

{}``At five.''

{}``Did you close it?''

{}``I am always the last man out.''

{}``Where were the plans?''

{}``In that safe. I put them there myself.''

{}``Is there no watchman to the building?''

{}``There is, but he has other departments to look after as well.
He is an old soldier and a most trustworthy man. He saw nothing that
evening. Of course the fog was very thick.''

{}``Suppose that Cadogan West wished to make his way into the building
after hours; he would need three keys, would he not, before the could
reach the papers?''

{}``Yes, he would. The key of the outer door, the key of the office,
and the key of the safe.''

{}``Only Sir James Walter and you had those keys?''

{}``I had no keys of the doors\mdsh{---}only of the safe.''

{}``Was Sir James a man who was orderly in his habits?''

{}``Yes, I think he was. I know that so far as those three keys are
concerned he kept them on the same ring. I have often seen them there.''

{}``And that ring went with him to London?''

{}``He said so.''

{}``And your key never left your possession?''

{}``Never.''

{}``Then West, if he is the culprit, must have had a duplicate. And
yet none was found upon his body. One other point: if a clerk in this
office desired to sell the plans, would it not be simpler to copy
the plans for himself than to take the originals, as was actually
done?''

{}``It would take considerable technical knowledge to copy the plans
in an effective way.''

{}``But I suppose either Sir James, or you, or West has that technical
knowledge?''

{}``No doubt we had, but I beg you won't try to drag me into the
matter, Mr.\ Holmes. What is the use of our speculating in this way
when the original plans were actually found on West?''

{}``Well, it is certainly singular that he should run the risk of
taking originals if he could safely have taken copies, which would
have equally served his turn.''

{}``Singular, no doubt\mdsh{---}and yet he did so.''

{}``Every inquiry in this case reveals something inexplicable. Now
there are three papers still missing. They are, as I understand, the
vital ones.''

{}``Yes, that is so.''

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-bruc-03.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{{}``Do you mean to say that anyone
holding these three papers could construct a Bruce-Partington submarine?''}\end{center}
\end{figure}
{}``Do you mean to say that anyone holding these three papers, and
without the seven others, could construct a Bruce-Partington submarine?''

{}``I reported to that effect to the Admiralty. But to-day I have
been over the drawings again, and I am not so sure of it. The double
valves with the automatic self-adjusting slots are drawn in one of
the papers which have been returned. Until the foreigners had invented
that for themselves they could not make the boat. Of course they might
soon get over the difficulty.''

{}``But the three missing drawings are the most important?''

{}``Undoubtedly.''

{}``I think, with your permission, I will now take a stroll round
the premises. I do not recall any other question which I desired to
ask.''

He examined the lock of the safe, the door of the room, and finally
the iron shutters of the window. It was only when we were on the lawn
outside that his interest was strongly excited. There was a laurel
bush outside the window, and several of the branches bore signs of
having been twisted or snapped. He examined them carefully with his
lens, and then some dim and vague marks upon the earth beneath. Finally
he asked the chief clerk to close the iron shutters, and he pointed
out to me that they hardly met in the centre, and that it would be
possible for anyone outside to see what was going on within the room.

{}``The indications are ruined by three days'\ delay. They may mean
something or nothing. Well, Watson, I do not think that Woolwich can
help us further. It is a small crop which we have gathered. Let us
see if we can do better in London.''

Yet we added one more sheaf to our harvest before we left Woolwich
Station. The clerk in the ticket office was able to say with confidence
that he saw Cadogan West\mdsh{---}whom he knew well by sight\mdsh{---}upon
the Monday night, and that he went to London by the 8:15 to London
Bridge. He was alone and took a single third-class ticket. The clerk
was struck at the time by his excited and nervous manner. So shaky
was he that he could hardly pick up his change, and the clerk had
helped him with it. A reference to the timetable showed that the 8:15
was the first train which it was possible for West to take after he
had left the lady about 7:30.

{}``Let us reconstruct, Watson,''\ said Holmes after half an hour
of silence. {}``I am not aware that in all our joint researches we
have ever had a case which was more difficult to get at. Every fresh
advance which we make only reveals a fresh ridge beyond. And yet we
have surely made some appreciable progress.

{}``The effect of our inquiries at Woolwich has in the main been
against young Cadogan West; but the indications at the window would
lend themselves to a more favourable hypothesis. Let us suppose, for
example, that he had been approached by some foreign agent. It might
have been done under such pledges as would have prevented him from
speaking of it, and yet would have affected his thoughts in the direction
indicated by his remarks to his fiancee. Very good. We will now suppose
that as he went to the theatre with the young lady he suddenly, in
the fog, caught a glimpse of this same agent going in the direction
of the office. He was an impetuous man, quick in his decisions. Everything
gave way to his duty. He followed the man, reached the window, saw
the abstraction of the documents, and pursued the thief. In this way
we get over the objection that no one would take originals when he
could make copies. This outsider had to take originals. So far it
holds together.''

{}``What is the next step?''

{}``Then we come into difficulties. One would imagine that under
such circumstances the first act of young Cadogan West would be to
seize the villain and raise the alarm. Why did he not do so? Could
it have been an official superior who took the papers? That would
explain West's conduct. Or could the thief have given West the slip
in the fog, and West started at once to London to head him off from
his own rooms, presuming that he knew where the rooms were? The call
must have been very pressing, since he left his girl standing in the
fog and made no effort to communicate with her. Our scent runs cold
here, and there is a vast gap between either hypothesis and the laying
of West's body, with seven papers in his pocket, on the roof of a
Metropolitan train. My instinct now is to work from the other end.
If Mycroft has given us the list of addresses we may be able to pick
our man and follow two tracks instead of one.''

Surely enough, a note awaited us at Baker Street. A government messenger
had brought it post-haste. Holmes glanced at it and threw it over
to me.

\begin{quotation}
\noindent There are numerous small fry, but few who would handle so
big an affair. The only men worth considering are Adolph Mayer, of
13 Great George Street, Westminster; Louis La Rothiere, of Campden
Mansions, Notting Hill; and Hugo Oberstein, 13 Caulfield Gardens,
Kensington. The latter was known to be in town on Monday and is now
reported as having left. Glad to hear you have seen some light. The
Cabinet awaits your final report with the utmost anxiety. Urgent representations
have arrived from the very highest quarter. The whole force of the
State is at your back if you should need it.

\hspace{\stretch{1}}\noun{Mycroft}.
\end{quotation}
{}

{}``I'm afraid,''\ said Holmes, smiling, {}``that all the queen's
horses and all the queen's men cannot avail in this matter.'' He
had spread out his big map of London and leaned eagerly over it. {}``Well,
well,''\ said he presently with an exclamation of satisfaction,
{}``things are turning a little in our direction at last. Why, Watson,
I do honestly believe that we are going to pull it off, after all.''
He slapped me on the shoulder with a sudden burst of hilarity. {}``I
am going out now. It is only a reconnaissance. I will do nothing serious
without my trusted comrade and biographer at my elbow. Do you stay
here, and the odds are that you will see me again in an hour or two.
If time hangs heavy get foolscap and a pen, and begin your narrative
of how we saved the State.''

I felt some reflection of his elation in my own mind, for I knew well
that he would not depart so far from his usual austerity of demeanour
unless there was good cause for exultation. All the long November
evening I waited, filled with impatience for his return. At last,
shortly after nine o'clock, there arrived a messenger with a note:\ 

\begin{quotation}
\noindent Am dining at Goldini's Restaurant, Gloucester Road, Kensington.
Please come at once and join me there. Bring with you a jemmy, a dark
lantern, a chisel, and a revolver.

\hspace{\stretch{1}}S.H.
\end{quotation}
{}

It was a nice equipment for a respectable citizen to carry through
the dim, fog-draped streets. I stowed them all discreetly away in
my overcoat and drove straight to the address given. There sat my
friend at a little round table near the door of the garish Italian
restaurant.

{}``Have you had something to eat? Then join me in a coffee and \textit{cura\c{c}ao}.
Try one of the proprietor's cigars. They are less poisonous than one
would expect. Have you the tools?''

{}``They are here, in my overcoat.''

{}``Excellent. Let me give you a short sketch of what I have done,
with some indication of what we are about to do. Now it must be evident
to you, Watson, that this young man's body was \textit{placed} on
the roof of the train. That was clear from the instant that I determined
the fact that it was from the roof, and not from a carriage, that
he had fallen.''

{}``Could it not have been dropped from a bridge?''

{}``I should say it was impossible. If you examine the roofs you
will find that they are slightly rounded, and there is no railing
round them. Therefore, we can say for certain that young Cadogan West
was placed on it.''

{}``How could he be placed there?''

{}``That was the question which we had to answer. There is only one
possible way. You are aware that the Underground runs clear of tunnels
at some points in the West End. I had a vague memory that as I have
travelled by it I have occasionally seen windows just above my head.
Now, suppose that a train halted under such a window, would there
be any difficulty in laying a body upon the roof?''

{}``It seems most improbable.''

{}``We must fall back upon the old axiom that when all other contingencies
fail, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. Here
all other contingencies \textit{have} failed. When I found that the
leading international agent, who had just left London, lived in a
row of houses which abutted upon the Underground, I was so pleased
that you were a little astonished at my sudden frivolity.''

{}``Oh, that was it, was it?''

{}``Yes, that was it. Mr.\ Hugo Oberstein, of 13 Caulfield Gardens,
had become my objective. I began my operations at Gloucester Road
Station, where a very helpful official walked with me along the track
and allowed me to satisfy myself not only that the back-stair windows
of Caulfield Gardens open on the line but the even more essential
fact that, owing to the intersection of one of the larger railways,
the Underground trains are frequently held motionless for some minutes
at that very spot.''

{}``Splendid, Holmes! You have got it!''

{}``So far\mdsh{---}so far, Watson. We advance, but the goal is
afar. Well, having seen the back of Caulfield Gardens, I visited the
front and satisfied myself that the bird was indeed flown. It is a
considerable house, unfurnished, so far as I could judge, in the upper
rooms. Oberstein lived there with a single valet, who was probably
a confederate entirely in his confidence. We must bear in mind that
Oberstein has gone to the Continent to dispose of his booty, but not
with any idea of flight; for he had no reason to fear a warrant, and
the idea of an amateur domiciliary visit would certainly never occur
to him. Yet that is precisely what we are about to make.''

{}``Could we not get a warrant and legalize it?''

{}``Hardly on the evidence.''

{}``What can we hope to do?''

{}``We cannot tell what correspondence may be there.''

{}``I don't like it, Holmes.''

{}``My dear fellow, you shall keep watch in the street. I'll do the
criminal part. It's not a time to stick at trifles. Think of Mycroft's
note, of the Admiralty, the Cabinet, the exalted person who waits
for news. We are bound to go.''

My answer was to rise from the table.

{}``You are right, Holmes. We are bound to go.''

He sprang up and shook me by the hand.

{}``I knew you would not shrink at the last,''\ said he, and for
a moment I saw something in his eyes which was nearer to tenderness
than I had ever seen. The next instant he was his masterful, practical
self once more.

{}``It is nearly half a mile, but there is no hurry. Let us walk,''
said he. {}``Don't drop the instruments, I beg. Your arrest as a
suspicious character would be a most unfortunate complication.''

Caulfield Gardens was one of those lines of flat-faced pillared, and
porticoed houses which are so prominent a product of the middle Victorian
epoch in the West End of London. Next door there appeared to be a
children's party, for the merry buzz of young voices and the clatter
of a piano resounded through the night. The fog still hung about and
screened us with its friendly shade. Holmes had lit his lantern and
flashed it upon the massive door.

{}``This is a serious proposition,''\ said he. {}``It is certainly
bolted as well as locked. We would do better in the area. There is
an excellent archway down yonder in case a too zealous policeman should
intrude. Give me a hand, Watson, and I'll do the same for you.''

A minute later we were both in the area. Hardly had we reached the
dark shadows before the step of the policeman was heard in the fog
above. As its soft rhythm died away, Holmes set to work upon the lower
door. I saw him stoop and strain until with a sharp crash it flew
open. We sprang through into the dark passage, closing the area door
behind us. Holmes let the way up the curving, uncarpeted stair. His
little fan of yellow light shone upon a low window.

{}``Here we are, Watson\mdsh{---}this must be the one.'' He threw
it open, and as he did so there was a low, harsh murmur, growing steadily
into a loud roar as a train dashed past us in the darkness. Holmes
swept his light along the window-sill. It was thickly coated with
soot from the passing engines, but the black surface was blurred and
rubbed in places.

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-bruc-04.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{{}``Let us stay here until a train
stops.''}\end{center}
\end{figure}
{}``You can see where they rested the body. Halloa, Watson!\ what
is this? There can be no doubt that it is a blood mark.'' He was
pointing to faint discolourations along the woodwork of the window.
{}``Here it is on the stone of the stair also. The demonstration
is complete. Let us stay here until a train stops.''

We had not long to wait. The very next train roared from the tunnel
as before, but slowed in the open, and then, with a creaking of brakes,
pulled up immediately beneath us. It was not four feet from the window-ledge
to the roof of the carriages. Holmes softly closed the window.

{}``So far we are justified,''\ said he. {}``What do you think
of it, Watson?''

{}``A masterpiece. You have never risen to a greater height.''

{}``I cannot agree with you there. From the moment that I conceived
the idea of the body being upon the roof, which surely was not a very
abstruse one, all the rest was inevitable. If it were not for the
grave interests involved the affair up to this point would be insignificant.
Our difficulties are still before us. But perhaps we may find something
here which may help us.''

We had ascended the kitchen stair and entered the suite of rooms upon
the first floor. One was a dining-room, severely furnished and containing
nothing of interest. A second was a bedroom, which also drew blank.
The remaining room appeared more promising, and my companion settled
down to a systematic examination. It was littered with books and papers,
and was evidently used as a study. Swiftly and methodically Holmes
turned over the contents of drawer after drawer and cupboard after
cupboard, but no gleam of success came to brighten his austere face.
At the end of an hour he was no further than when he started.

{}``The cunning dog has covered his tracks,''\ said he. {}``He
has left nothing to incriminate him. His dangerous correspondence
has been destroyed or removed. This is our last chance.''

It was a small tin cash-box which stood upon the writing-desk. Holmes
pried it open with his chisel. Several rolls of paper were within,
covered with figures and calculations, without any note to show to
what they referred. The recurring words, {}``water pressure''\ and
{}``pressure to the square inch''\ suggested some possible relation
to a submarine. Holmes tossed them all impatiently aside. There only
remained an envelope with some small newspaper slips inside it. He
shook them out on the table, and at once I saw by his eager face that
his hopes had been raised.

{}``What's this, Watson? Eh? What's this? Record of a series of messages
in the advertisements of a paper. \emph{Daily Telegraph} agony column
by the print and paper. Right-hand top corner of a page. No dates\mdsh{---}but
messages arrange themselves. This must be the first:\ 

\begin{quotation}
\noindent {}``Hoped to hear sooner. Terms agreed to. Write fully
to address given on card.

\hspace{\stretch{1}}{}``Pierrot.
\end{quotation}
{}``Next comes:\ 

\begin{quotation}
\noindent {}``Too complex for description. Must have full report,
Stuff awaits you when goods delivered.

\hspace{\stretch{1}}{}``Pierrot.
\end{quotation}
{}``Then comes:\ 

\begin{quotation}
\noindent {}``Matter presses. Must withdraw offer unless contract
completed. Make appointment by letter. Will confirm by advertisement.

\hspace{\stretch{1}}{}``Pierrot.
\end{quotation}
{}``Finally:\ 

\begin{quotation}
\noindent {}``Monday night after nine. Two taps. Only ourselves.
Do not be so suspicious. Payment in hard cash when goods delivered.

\hspace{\stretch{1}}{}``Pierrot.
\end{quotation}
{}``A fairly complete record, Watson! If we could only get at the
man at the other end!''\  He sat lost in thought, tapping his fingers
on the table. Finally he sprang to his feet.

{}``Well, perhaps it won't be so difficult, after all. There is nothing
more to be done here, Watson. I think we might drive round to the
offices of the \emph{Daily Telegraph}, and so bring a good day's work
to a conclusion.''

Mycroft Holmes and Lestrade had come round by appointment after breakfast
next day and Sherlock Holmes had recounted to them our proceedings
of the day before. The professional shook his head over our confessed
burglary.

{}``We can't do these things in the force, Mr.\ Holmes,''\ said
he. {}``No wonder you get results that are beyond us. But some of
these days you'll go too far, and you'll find yourself and your friend
in trouble.''

{}``For England, home and beauty\mdsh{---}eh, Watson? Martyrs on
the altar of our country. But what do you think of it, Mycroft?''

{}``Excellent, Sherlock! Admirable! But what use will you make of
it?''

Holmes picked up the \emph{Daily Telegraph} which lay upon the table.

{}``Have you seen Pierrot's advertisement to-day?''

{}``What? Another one?''

{}``Yes, here it is:\ 

\begin{quotation}
\noindent {}``To-night. Same hour. Same place. Two taps. Most vitally
important. Your own safety at stake.

\hspace{\stretch{1}}{}``Pierrot.''
\end{quotation}
{}

{}``By George!''\ cried Lestrade. {}``If he answers that we've
got him!''

{}``That was my idea when I put it in. I think if you could both
make it convenient to come with us about eight o'clock to Caulfield
Gardens we might possibly get a little nearer to a solution.''

One of the most remarkable characteristics of Sherlock Holmes was
his power of throwing his brain out of action and switching all his
thoughts on to lighter things whenever he had convinced himself that
he could no longer work to advantage. I remember that during the whole
of that memorable day he lost himself in a monograph which he had
undertaken upon the \emph{Polyphonic Motets of Lassus}. For my own
part I had none of this power of detachment, and the day, in consequence,
appeared to be interminable. The great national importance of the
issue, the suspense in high quarters, the direct nature of the experiment
which we were trying\mdsh{---}all combined to work upon my nerve.
It was a relief to me when at last, after a light dinner, we set out
upon our expedition. Lestrade and Mycroft met us by appointment at
the outside of Gloucester Road Station. The area door of Oberstein's
house had been left open the night before, and it was necessary for
me, as Mycroft Holmes absolutely and indignantly declined to climb
the railings, to pass in and open the hall door. By nine o'clock we
were all seated in the study, waiting patently for our man.

An hour passed and yet another. When eleven struck, the measured beat
of the great church clock seemed to sound the dirge of our hopes.
Lestrade and Mycroft were fidgeting in their seats and looking twice
a minute at their watches. Holmes sat silent and composed, his eyelids
half shut, but every sense on the alert. He raised his head with a
sudden jerk.

{}``He is coming,''\ said he.

There had been a furtive step past the door. Now it returned. We heard
a shuffling sound outside, and then two sharp taps with the knocker.
Holmes rose, motioning us to remain seated. The gas in the hall was
a mere point of light. He opened the outer door, and then as a dark
figure slipped past him he closed and fastened it. {}``This way!''\ we
heard him say, and a moment later our man stood before us. %
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-bruc-05.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{Before our prisoner had recovered
his balance the door was shut and Holmes standing with his back against
it.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
Holmes had followed him closely, and as the man turned with a cry
of surprise and alarm he caught him by the collar and threw him back
into the room. Before our prisoner had recovered his balance the door
was shut and Holmes standing with his back against it. The man glared
round him, staggered, and fell senseless upon the floor. With the
shock, his broad-brimmed hat flew from his head, his cravat slipped
down from his lips, and there were the long light beard and the soft,
handsome delicate features of Colonel Valentine Walter.

Holmes gave a whistle of surprise.

{}``You can write me down an ass this time, Watson,''\ said he.
{}``This was not the bird that I was looking for.''

{}``Who is he?''\ asked Mycroft eagerly.

{}``The younger brother of the late Sir James Walter, the head of
the Submarine Department. Yes, yes; I see the fall of the cards. He
is coming to. I think that you had best leave his examination to me.''

We had carried the prostrate body to the sofa. Now our prisoner sat
up, looked round him with a horror-stricken face, and passed his hand
over his forehead, like one who cannot believe his own senses.

{}``What is this?''\ he asked. {}``I came here to visit Mr.\ Oberstein.''

{}``Everything is known, Colonel Walter,''\ said Holmes. {}``How
an English gentleman could behave in such a manner is beyond my comprehension.
But your whole correspondence and relations with Oberstein are within
our knowledge. So also are the circumstances connected with the death
of young Cadogan West. Let me advise you to gain at least the small
credit for repentance and confession, since there are still some details
which we can only learn from your lips.''

The man groaned and sank his face in his hands. We waited, but he
was silent.

{}``I can assure you,''\ said Holmes, {}``that every essential
is already known. We know that you were pressed for money; that you
took an impress of the keys which your brother held; and that you
entered into a correspondence with Oberstein, who answered your letters
through the advertisement columns of the \emph{Daily Telegraph}. We
are aware that you went down to the office in the fog on Monday night,
but that you were seen and followed by young Cadogan West, who had
probably some previous reason to suspect you. He saw your theft, but
could not give the alarm, as it was just possible that you were taking
the papers to your brother in London. Leaving all his private concerns,
like the good citizen that he was, he followed you closely in the
fog and kept at your heels until you reached this very house. There
he intervened, and then it was, Colonel Walter, that to treason you
added the more terrible crime of murder.''

{}``I did not! I did not! Before God I swear that I did not!'' cried
our wretched prisoner.

{}``Tell us, then, how Cadogan West met his end before you laid him
upon the roof of a railway carriage.''

{}``I will. I swear to you that I will. I did the rest. I confess
it. It was just as you say. A Stock Exchange debt had to be paid.
I needed the money badly. Oberstein offered me five thousand. It was
to save myself from ruin. But as to murder, I am as innocent as you.''

{}``What happened, then?''

{}``He had his suspicions before, and he followed me as you describe.
I never knew it until I was at the very door. It was thick fog, and
one could not see three yards. I had given two taps and Oberstein
had come to the door. The young man rushed up and demanded to know
what we were about to do with the papers. Oberstein had a short life-preserver.
He always carried it with him. As West forced his way after us into
the house Oberstein struck him on the head. The blow was a fatal one.
He was dead within five minutes. There he lay in the hall, and we
were at our wit's end what to do. Then Oberstein had this idea about
the trains which halted under his back window. But first he examined
the papers which I had brought. He said that three of them were essential,
and that he must keep them. `You cannot keep them,' said I. `There
will be a dreadful row at Woolwich if they are not returned.' `I must
keep them,'\ said he, `for they are so technical that it is impossible
in the time to make copies.' `Then they must all go back together
to-night,'\ said I.\  He thought for a little, and then he cried
out that he had it. `Three I will keep,'\ said he. `The others we
will stuff into the pocket of this young man. When he is found the
whole business will assuredly be put to his account.' I could see
no other way out of it, so we did as he suggested. We waited half
an hour at the window before a train stopped. %
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-bruc-06.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{{}``That was the end of the matter.''}\end{center}
\end{figure}
It was so thick that nothing could be seen, and we had no difficulty
in lowering West's body on to the train. That was the end of the matter
so far as I was concerned.''

{}``And your brother?''

{}``He said nothing, but he had caught me once with his keys, and
I think that he suspected. I read in his eyes that he suspected. As
you know, he never held up his head again.''

There was silence in the room. It was broken by Mycroft Holmes.

{}``Can you not make reparation? It would ease your conscience, and
possibly your punishment.''

{}``What reparation can I make?''

{}``Where is Oberstein with the papers?''

{}``I do not know.''

{}``Did he give you no address?''

{}``He said that letters to the Hotel du Louvre, Paris, would eventually
reach him.''

{}``Then reparation is still within your power,''\ said Sherlock
Holmes.

{}``I will do anything I can. I owe this fellow no particular good-will.
He has been my ruin and my downfall.''

{}``Here are paper and pen. Sit at this desk and write to my dictation.
Direct the envelope to the address given. That is right. Now the letter:\ 

\begin{quotation}
\noindent {}``Dear Sir:\ 

{}``With regard to our transaction, you will no doubt have observed
by now that one essential detail is missing. I have a tracing which
will make it complete. This has involved me in extra trouble, however,
and I must ask you for a further advance of five hundred pounds. I
will not trust it to the post, nor will I take anything but gold or
notes. I would come to you abroad, but it would excite remark if I
left the country at present. Therefore I shall expect to meet you
in the smoking-room of the Charing Cross Hotel at noon on Saturday.
Remember that only English notes, or gold, will be taken.
\end{quotation}
{}``That will do very well. I shall be very much surprised if it
does not fetch our man.''

And it did! It is a matter of history\mdsh{---}that secret history
of a nation which is often so much more intimate and interesting than
its public chronicles\mdsh{---}that Oberstein, eager to complete
the coup of his lifetime, came to the lure and was safely engulfed
for fifteen years in a British prison. In his trunk were found the
invaluable Bruce-Partington plans, which he had put up for auction
in all the naval centres of Europe.

Colonel Walter died in prison towards the end of the second year of
his sentence. As to Holmes, he returned refreshed to his monograph
upon the \emph{Polyphonic Motets of Lassus}, which has since been
printed for private circulation, and is said by experts to be the
last word upon the subject. Some weeks afterwards I learned incidentally
that my friend spent a day at Windsor, whence be returned with a remarkably
fine emerald tie-pin. When I asked him if he had bought it, he answered
that it was a present from a certain gracious lady in whose interests
he had once been fortunate enough to carry out a small commission.
He said no more; but I fancy that I could guess at that lady's august
name, and I have little doubt that the emerald pin will forever recall
to my friend's memory the adventure of the Bruce-Partington plans.


\chapter*{\raggedright The Adventure of the Dying Detective\protect \\
{\large Illustrations by Walter Paget}}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{The Adventure of the\\
Dying Detective}

\markboth{His Last Bow}{The Adventure of the Dying Detective}

Mrs.\ Hudson, the landlady of Sherlock Holmes, was a long-suffering
woman. Not only was her first-floor flat invaded at all hours by throngs
of singular and often undesirable characters but her remarkable lodger
showed an eccentricity and irregularity in his life which must have
sorely tried her patience. His incredible untidiness, his addiction
to music at strange hours, his occasional revolver practice within
doors, his weird and often malodorous scientific experiments, and
the atmosphere of violence and danger which hung around him made him
the very worst tenant in London. On the other hand, his payments were
princely. I have no doubt that the house might have been purchased
at the price which Holmes paid for his rooms during the years that
I was with him.

The landlady stood in the deepest awe of him and never dared to interfere
with him, however outrageous his proceedings might seem. She was fond
of him, too, for he had a remarkable gentleness and courtesy in his
dealings with women. He disliked and distrusted the sex, but he was
always a chivalrous opponent. Knowing how genuine was her regard for
him, I listened earnestly to her story when she came to my rooms in
the second year of my married life and told me of the sad condition
to which my poor friend was reduced.

{}``He's dying, Dr.\ Watson,''\ said she. {}``For three days
he has been sinking, and I doubt if he will last the day. He would
not let me get a doctor. This morning when I saw his bones sticking
out of his face and his great bright eyes looking at me I could stand
no more of it. `With your leave or without it, Mr.\ Holmes, I am
going for a doctor this very hour,'\ said I. `Let it be Watson, then,'\ said
he. I wouldn't waste an hour in coming to him, sir, or you may not
see him alive.''

I was horrified for I had heard nothing of his illness. I need not
say that I rushed for my coat and my hat. As we drove back I asked
for the details.

{}``There is little I can tell you, sir. He has been working at a
case down at Rotherhithe, in an alley near the river, and he has brought
this illness back with him. He took to his bed on Wednesday afternoon
and has never moved since. For these three days neither food nor drink
has passed his lips.''

{}``Good God! Why did you not call in a doctor?''

{}``He wouldn't have it, sir. You know how masterful he is. I didn't
dare to disobey him. But he's not long for this world, as you'll see
for yourself the moment that you set eyes on him.''

He was indeed a deplorable spectacle. In the dim light of a foggy
November day the sick room was a gloomy spot, but it was that gaunt,
wasted face staring at me from the bed which sent a chill to my heart.
His eyes had the brightness of fever, there was a hectic flush upon
either cheek, and dark crusts clung to his lips; the thin hands upon
the coverlet twitched incessantly, his voice was croaking and spasmodic.
He lay listlessly as I entered the room, but the sight of me brought
a gleam of recognition to his eyes.

{}``Well, Watson, we seem to have fallen upon evil days,''\ said
he in a feeble voice, but with something of his old carelessness of
manner.

{}``My dear fellow!''\ I cried, approaching him.

{}``Stand back! Stand right back!''\ said he with the sharp imperiousness
which I had associated only with moments of crisis. {}``If you approach
me, Watson, I shall order you out of the house.''

{}``But why?''

{}``Because it is my desire. Is that not enough?''

Yes, Mrs.\ Hudson was right. He was more masterful than ever. It
was pitiful, however, to see his exhaustion.

{}``I only wished to help,''\ I explained.

{}``Exactly! You will help best by doing what you are told.''

{}``Certainly, Holmes.''

He relaxed the austerity of his manner.

{}``You are not angry?''\ he asked, gasping for breath.

Poor devil, how could I be angry when I saw him lying in such a plight
before me?

{}``It's for your own sake, Watson,''\ he croaked.

{}``For \textit{my} sake?''

{}``I know what is the matter with me. It is a coolie disease from
Sumatra\mdsh{---}a thing that the Dutch know more about than we,
though they have made little of it up to date. One thing only is certain.
It is infallibly deadly, and it is horribly contagious.''

He spoke now with a feverish energy, the long hands twitching and
jerking as he motioned me away.

{}``Contagious by touch, Watson\mdsh{---}that's it, by touch. Keep
your distance and all is well.''

{}``Good heavens, Holmes! Do you suppose that such a consideration
weighs with me of an instant? It would not affect me in the case of
a stranger. Do you imagine it would prevent me from doing my duty
to so old a friend?''

Again I advanced, but he repulsed me with a look of furious anger.

{}``If you will stand there I will talk. If you do not you must leave
the room.''

I have so deep a respect for the extraordinary qualities of Holmes
that I have always deferred to his wishes, even when I least understood
them. But now all my professional instincts were aroused. Let him
be my master elsewhere, I at least was his in a sick room.

{}``Holmes,''\ said I, {}``you are not yourself. A sick man is
but a child, and so I will treat you. Whether you like it or not,
I will examine your symptoms and treat you for them.''

He looked at me with venomous eyes.

{}``If I am to have a doctor whether I will or not, let me at least
have someone in whom I have confidence,''\ said he.

{}``Then you have none in me?''

{}``In your friendship, certainly. But facts are facts, Watson, and,
after all, you are only a general practitioner with very limited experience
and mediocre qualifications. It is painful to have to say these things,
but you leave me no choice.''

I was bitterly hurt.

{}``Such a remark is unworthy of you, Holmes. It shows me very clearly
the state of your own nerves. But if you have no confidence in me
I would not intrude my services. Let me bring Sir Jasper Meek or Penrose
Fisher, or any of the best men in London. But someone you \textit{must}
have, and that is final. If you think that I am going to stand here
and see you die without either helping you myself or bringing anyone
else to help you, then you have mistaken your man.''

{}``You mean well, Watson,''\ said the sick man with something
between a sob and a groan. {}``Shall I demonstrate your own ignorance?
What do you know, pray, of Tapanuli fever? What do you know of the
black Formosa corruption?''

{}``I have never heard of either.''

{}``There are many problems of disease, many strange pathological
possibilities, in the East, Watson.'' He paused after each sentence
to collect his failing strength. {}``I have learned so much during
some recent researches which have a medico-criminal aspect. It was
in the course of them that I contracted this complaint. You can do
nothing.''

{}``Possibly not. But I happen to know that Dr.\ Ainstree, the greatest
living authority upon tropical disease, is now in London. All remonstrance
is useless, Holmes, I am going this instant to fetch him.'' I turned
resolutely to the door.

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-dyin-01.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{I heard the sharp snap of a twisted
key.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
Never have I had such a shock! In an instant, with a tiger-spring,
the dying man had intercepted me. I heard the sharp snap of a twisted
key. The next moment he had staggered back to his bed, exhausted and
panting after his one tremendous outflame of energy.

{}``You won't take the key from be by force, Watson, I've got you,
my friend. Here you are, and here you will stay until I will otherwise.
But I'll humour you.''\  (All this in little gasps, with terrible
struggles for breath between.)\  {}``You've only my own good at
heart. Of course I know that very well. You shall have your way, but
give me time to get my strength. Not now, Watson, not now. It's four
o'clock. At six you can go.''

{}``This is insanity, Holmes.''

{}``Only two hours, Watson. I promise you will go at six. Are you
content to wait?''

{}``I seem to have no choice.''

{}``None in the world, Watson. Thank you, I need no help in arranging
the clothes. You will please keep your distance. Now, Watson, there
is one other condition that I would make. You will seek help, not
from the man you mention, but from the one that I choose.''

{}``By all means.''

{}``The first three sensible words that you have uttered since you
entered this room, Watson. You will find some books over there. I
am somewhat exhausted; I wonder how a battery feels when it pours
electricity into a non-conductor? At six, Watson, we resume our conversation.''

But it was destined to be resumed long before that hour, and in circumstances
which gave me a shock hardly second to that caused by his spring to
the door. I had stood for some minutes looking at the silent figure
in the bed. His face was almost covered by the clothes and he appeared
to be asleep. Then, unable to settle down to reading, I walked slowly
round the room, examining the pictures of celebrated criminals with
which every wall was adorned. Finally, in my aimless perambulation,
I came to the mantelpiece. A litter of pipes, tobacco-pouches, syringes,
penknives, revolver-cartridges, and other debris was scattered over
it. In the midst of these was a small black and white ivory box with
a sliding lid. It was a neat little thing, and I had stretched out
my hand to examine it more closely when

It was a dreadful cry that he gave\mdsh{---}a yell which might have
been heard down the street. My skin went cold and my hair bristled
at that horrible scream. As I turned I caught a glimpse of a convulsed
face and frantic eyes. I stood paralyzed, with the little box in my
hand.

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-dyin-02.jpg}

\noindent \noun{{}``Put it down! Down, this instant, Watson\mbox{----}this
instant, I say!''}
\end{figure}
{}``Put it down! Down, this instant, Wat\-son\mdsh{---}this instant,
I say!'' His head sank back upon the pillow and he gave a deep sigh
of relief as I replaced the box upon the mantelpiece. {}``I hate
to have my things touched, Watson. You know that I hate it. You fidget
me beyond endurance. You, a doctor\mdsh{---}you are enough to drive
a patient into an asylum. Sit down, man, and let me have my rest!''

The incident left a most unpleasant impression upon my mind. The violent
and causeless excitement, followed by this brutality of speech, so
far removed from his usual suavity, showed me how deep was the disorganization
of his mind. Of all ruins, that of a noble mind is the most deplorable.
I sat in silent dejection until the stipulated time had passed. He
seemed to have been watching the clock as well as I, for it was hardly
six before he began to talk with the same feverish animation as before.

{}``Now, Watson,''\ said he. {}``Have you any change in your pocket?''

{}``Yes.''

{}``Any silver?''

{}``A good deal.''

{}``How many half-crowns?''

{}``I have five.''

{}``Ah, too few! Too few! How very unfortunate, Watson! However,
such as they are you can put them in your watchpocket. And all the
rest of your money in your left trouser pocket. Thank you. It will
balance you so much better like that.''

This was raving insanity. He shuddered, and again made a sound between
a cough and a sob.

{}``You will now light the gas, Watson, but you will be very careful
that not for one instant shall it be more than half on. I implore
you to be careful, Watson. Thank you, that is excellent. No, you need
not draw the blind. Now you will have the kindness to place some letters
and papers upon this table within my reach. Thank you. Now some of
that litter from the mantelpiece. Excellent, Watson! There is a sugar-tongs
there. Kindly raise that small ivory box with its assistance. Place
it here among the papers. Good! You can now go and fetch Mr.\ Culverton
Smith, of 13 Lower Burke Street.''

To tell the truth, my desire to fetch a doctor had somewhat weakened,
for poor Holmes was so obviously delirious that it seemed dangerous
to leave him. However, he was as eager now to consult the person named
as he had been obstinate in refusing.

{}``I never heard the name,''\ said I.

{}``Possibly not, my good Watson. It may surprise you to know that
the man upon earth who is best versed in this disease is not a medical
man, but a planter. Mr.\ Culverton Smith is a well-known resident
of Sumatra, now visiting London. An outbreak of the disease upon his
plantation, which was distant from medical aid, caused him to study
it himself, with some rather far-reaching consequences. He is a very
methodical person, and I did not desire you to start before six, because
I was well aware that you would not find him in his study. If you
could persuade him to come here and give us the benefit of his unique
experience of this disease, the investigation of which has been his
dearest hobby, I cannot doubt that he could help me.''

I gave Holmes's remarks as a consecutive whole and will not attempt
to indicate how they were interrupted by gaspings for breath and those
clutchings of his hands which indicated the pain from which he was
suffering. His appearance had changed for the worse during the few
hours that I had been with him. Those hectic spots were more pronounced,
the eyes shone more brightly out of darker hollows, and a cold sweat
glimmered upon his brow. He still retained, however, the jaunty gallantry
of his speech. To the last gasp he would always be the master.

{}``You will tell him exactly how you have left me,''\ said he.
{}``You will convey the very impression which is in your own mind\mdsh{---}a
dying man\mdsh{---}a dying and delirious man. Indeed, I cannot think
why the whole bed of the ocean is not one solid mass of oysters, so
prolific the creatures seem. Ah, I am wondering! Strange how the brain
controls the brain! What was I saying, Watson?''

{}``My directions for Mr.\ Culverton Smith.''

{}``Ah, yes, I remember. My life depends upon it. Plead with him,
Watson. There is no good feeling between us. His nephew, Watson\mdsh{---}I
had suspicions of foul play and I allowed him to see it. The boy died
horribly. He has a grudge against me. You will soften him, Watson.
Beg him, pray him, get him here by any means. He can save me\mdsh{---}only
he!''

{}``I will bring him in a cab, if I have to carry him down to it.''

{}``You will do nothing of the sort. You will persuade him to come.
And then you will return in front of him. Make any excuse so as not
to come with him. Don't forget, Watson. You won't fail me. You never
did fail me. No doubt there are natural enemies which limit the increase
of the creatures. You and I, Watson, we have done our part. Shall
the world, then, be overrun by oysters? No, no; horrible! You'll convey
all that is in your mind.''

I left him full of the image of this magnificent intellect babbling
like a foolish child. He had handed me the key, and with a happy thought
I took it with me lest he should lock himself in. Mrs.\ Hudson was
waiting, trembling and weeping, in the passage. Behind me as I passed
from the flat I heard Holmes's high, thin voice in some delirious
chant. Below, as I stood whistling for a cab, a man came on me through
the fog.

{}``How is Mr.\ Holmes, sir?''\ he asked.

It was an old acquaintance, Inspector Morton, of Scotland Yard, dressed
in unofficial \textit{\emph{tweeds}}.

{}``He is very ill,''\ I answered.

He looked at me in a most singular fashion. Had it not been too fiendish,
I could have imagined that the gleam of the fanlight showed exultation
in his face.

{}``I heard some rumour of it,''\ said he.

The cab had driven up, and I left him.

Lower Burke Street proved to be a line of fine houses lying in the
vague borderland between Notting Hill and Kensington. The particular
one at which my cabman pulled up had an air of smug and demure respectability
in its old-fashioned iron railings, its massive folding-door, and
its shining brasswork. All was in keeping with a solemn butler who
appeared framed in the pink radiance of a tinted electrical light
behind him.

{}``Yes, Mr.\ Culverton Smith is in. Dr.\ Watson! Very good, sir,
I will take up your card.''

My humble name and title did not appear to impress Mr.\ Culverton
Smith. Through the half-open door I heard a high, petulant, penetrating
voice.

{}``Who is this person? What does he want? Dear me, Staples, how
often have I said that I am not to be disturbed in my hours of study?''

There came a gentle flow of soothing explanation from the butler.

{}``Well, I won't see him, Staples. I can't have my work interrupted
like this. I am not at home. Say so. Tell him to come in the morning
if he really must see me.''

Again the gentle murmur.

{}``Well, well, give him that message. He can come in the morning,
or he can stay away. My work must not be hindered.''

I thought of Holmes tossing upon his bed of sickness and counting
the minutes, perhaps, until I could bring help to him. It was not
a time to stand upon ceremony. His life depended upon my promptness.
Before the apologetic butler had delivered his message I had pushed
past him and was in the room.

With a shrill cry of anger a man rose from a reclining chair beside
the fire. I saw a great yellow face, coarse-grained and greasy, with
heavy, double-chin, and two sullen, menacing gray eyes which glared
at me from under tufted and sandy brows. A high bald head had a small
velvet smoking-cap poised coquettishly upon one side of its pink curve.
The skull was of enormous capacity, and yet as I looked down I saw
to my amazement that the figure of the man was small and frail, twisted
in the shoulders and back like one who has suffered from rickets in
his childhood.

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-dyin-03.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{{}``What's this?''\ he cried in
a high, screaming voice. {}``What is the meaning of this intrusion?''}\end{center}
\end{figure}
{}``What's this?''\ he cried in a high, screaming voice. {}``What
is the meaning of this intrusion? Didn't I send you word that I would
see you to-morrow morning?''

{}``I am sorry,''\ said I, {}``but the matter cannot be delayed.
Mr.\ Sherlock Holmes\mdsh{---}''

The mention of my friend's name had an extraordinary effect upon the
little man. The look of anger passed in an instant from his face.
His features became tense and alert.

{}``Have you come from Holmes?''\ he asked.

{}``I have just left him.''

{}``What about Holmes? How is he?''

{}``He is desperately ill. That is why I have come.''

The man motioned me to a chair, and turned to resume his own. As he
did so I caught a glimpse of his face in the mirror over the mantelpiece.
I could have sworn that it was set in a malicious and abominable smile.
Yet I persuaded myself that it must have been some nervous contraction
which I had surprised, for he turned to me an instant later with genuine
concern upon his features.

{}``I am sorry to hear this,''\ said he. {}``I only know Mr.\ Holmes
through some business dealings which we have had, but I have every
respect for his talents and his character. He is an amateur of crime,
as I am of disease. For him the villain, for me the microbe. There
are my prisons,''\ he continued, pointing to a row of bottles and
jars which stood upon a side table. {}``Among those gelatine cultivations
some of the very worst offenders in the world are now doing time.''

{}``It was on account of your special knowledge that Mr.\ Holmes
desired to see you. He has a high opinion of you and thought that
you were the one man in London who could help him.''

The little man started, and the jaunty smoking-cap slid to the floor.

{}``Why?''\ he asked. {}``Why should Mr.\ Homes think that I
could help him in his trouble?''

{}``Because of your knowledge of Eastern diseases.''

{}``But why should he think that this disease which he has contracted
is Eastern?''

{}``Because, in some professional inquiry, he has been working among
Chinese sailors down in the docks.''

Mr.\ Culverton Smith smiled pleasantly and picked up his smoking-cap.

{}``Oh, that's it\mdsh{---}is it?''\ said he. {}``I trust the
matter is not so grave as you suppose. How long has he been ill?''

{}``About three days.''

{}``Is he delirious?''

{}``Occasionally.''

{}``Tut, tut! This sounds serious. It would be inhuman not to answer
his call. I very much resent any interruption to my work, Dr.\ Watson,
but this case is certainly exceptional. I will come with you at once.''

I remembered Holmes's injunction.

{}``I have another appointment,''\ said I.

{}``Very good. I will go alone. I have a note of Mr.\ Holmes's address.
You can rely upon my being there within half an hour at most.''

It was with a sinking heart that I reentered Holmes's bedroom. For
all that I knew the worst might have happened in my absence. To my
enormous relief, he had improved greatly in the interval. His appearance
was as ghastly as ever, but all trace of delirium had left him and
he spoke in a feeble voice, it is true, but with even more than his
usual crispness and lucidity.

{}``Well, did you see him, Watson?''

{}``Yes; he is coming.''

{}``Admirable, Watson! Admirable! You are the best of messengers.''

{}``He wished to return with me.''

{}``That would never do, Watson. That would be obviously impossible.
Did he ask what ailed me?''

{}``I told him about the Chinese in the East End.''

{}``Exactly! Well, Watson, you have done all that a good friend could.
You can now disappear from the scene.''

{}``I must wait and hear his opinion, Holmes.''

{}``Of course you must. But I have reasons to suppose that this opinion
would be very much more frank and valuable if he imagines that we
are alone. There is just room behind the head of my bed, Watson.''

{}``My dear Holmes!''

{}``I fear there is no alternative, Watson. The room does not lend
itself to concealment, which is as well, as it is the less likely
to arouse suspicion. But just there, Watson, I fancy that it could
be done.'' Suddenly he sat up with a rigid intentness upon his haggard
face. {}``There are the wheels, Watson. Quick, man, if you love me!
And don't budge, whatever happens\mdsh{---}whatever happens, do
you hear? Don't speak! Don't move! Just listen with all your ears.''
Then in an instant his sudden access of strength departed, and his
masterful, purposeful talk droned away into the low, vague murmurings
of a semi-delirious man.

$>$From the hiding-place into which I had been so swiftly hustled
I heard the footfalls upon the stair, with the opening and the closing
of the bedroom door. Then, to my surprise, there came a long silence,
broken only by the heavy breathings and gaspings of the sick man.
I could imagine that our visitor was standing by the bedside and looking
down at the sufferer. At last that strange hush was broken.

{}``Holmes!''\ he cried. {}``Holmes!''\ in the insistent tone
of one who awakens a sleeper. {}``Can't you hear me, Holmes?''\ 
There was a rustling, as if he had shaken the sick man roughly by
the shoulder.

{}``Is that you, Mr.\ Smith?''\  Holmes whispered. {}``I hardly
dared hope that you would come.''

The other laughed.

{}``I should imagine not,''\ he said. {}``And yet, you see, I
am here. Coals of fire, Holmes\mdsh{---}coals of fire!''

{}``It is very good of you\mdsh{---}very noble of you. I appreciate
your special knowledge.''

Our visitor sniggered.

{}``You do. You are, fortunately, the only man in London who does.
Do you know what is the matter with you?''

{}``The same,''\ said Holmes.

{}``Ah! You recognize the symptoms?''

{}``Only too well.''

{}``Well, I shouldn't be surprised, Holmes. I shouldn't be surprised
if it \textit{were} the same. A bad lookout for you if it is. Poor
Victor was a dead man on the fourth day\mdsh{---}a strong, hearty
young fellow. It was certainly, as you said, very surprising that
he should have contracted an out-of-the-way Asiatic disease in the
heart of London\mdsh{---}a disease, too, of which I had made such
a very special study. Singular coincidence, Holmes. Very smart of
you to notice it, but rather uncharitable to suggest that it was cause
and effect.''

{}``I knew that you did it.''

{}``Oh, you did, did you? Well, you couldn't prove it, anyhow. But
what do you think of yourself spreading reports about me like that,
and then crawling to me for help the moment you are in trouble? What
sort of a game is that\mdsh{---}eh?''

I heard the rasping, laboured breathing of the sick man. {}``Give
me the water!''\ he gasped.

{}``You're precious near your end, my friend, but I don't want you
to go till I have had a word with you. That's why I give you water.
There, don't slop it about! That's right. Can you understand what
I say?''

Holmes groaned.

{}``Do what you can for me. Let bygones be bygones,''\ he whispered.
{}``I'll put the words out of my head\mdsh{---}I swear I will.
Only cure me, and I'll forget it.''

{}``Forget what?''

{}``Well, about Victor Savage's death. You as good as admitted just
now that you had done it. I'll forget it.''

{}``You can forget it or remember it, just as you like. I don't see
you in the witness-box. Quite another shaped box, my good Holmes,
I assure you. It matters nothing to me that you should know how my
nephew died. It's not him we are talking about. It's you.''

{}``Yes, yes.''

{}``The fellow who came for me\mdsh{---}I've forgotten his name\mdsh{---}said
that you contracted it down in the East End among the sailors.''

{}``I could only account for it so.''

{}``You are proud of your brains, Holmes, are you not? Think yourself
smart, don't you? You came across someone who was smarter this time.
Now cast your mind back, Holmes. Can you think of no other way you
could have got this thing?''

{}``I can't think. My mind is gone. For heaven's sake help me!''

{}``Yes, I will help you. I'll help you to understand just where
you are and how you got there. I'd like you to know before you die.''

{}``Give me something to ease my pain.''

{}``Painful, is it? Yes, the coolies used to do some squealing towards
the end. Takes you as cramp, I fancy.''

{}``Yes, yes; it is cramp.''

{}``Well, you can hear what I say, anyhow. Listen now! Can you remember
any unusual incident in your life just about the time your symptoms
began?''

{}``No, no; nothing.''

{}``Think again.''

{}``I'm too ill to think.''

{}``Well, then, I'll help you. Did anything come by post?''

{}``By post?''

{}``A box by chance?''

{}``I'm fainting\mdsh{---}I'm gone!''

{}``Listen, Holmes!''\  There was a sound as if he was shaking
the dying man, and it was all that I could do to hold myself quiet
in my hiding-place. {}``You must hear me. You \textit{shall} hear
me. Do you remember a box\mdsh{---}an ivory box? It came on Wednesday.
You opened it\mdsh{---}do you remember?''

{}``Yes, yes, I opened it. There was a sharp spring inside it. Some
joke\mdsh{---}''

{}``It was no joke, as you will find to your cost. You fool, you
would have it and you have got it. Who asked you to cross my path?
If you had left me alone I would not have hurt you.''

{}``I remember,''\ Holmes gasped. {}``The spring! It drew blood.
This box\mdsh{---}this on the table.''

{}``The very one, by George! And it may as well leave the room in
my pocket. There goes your last shred of evidence. But you have the
truth now, Holmes, and you can die with the knowledge that I killed
you. You knew too much of the fate of Victor Savage, so I have sent
you to share it. You are very near your end, Holmes. I will sit here
and I will watch you die.''

Holmes's voice had sunk to an almost inaudible whisper.

{}``What is that?''\ said Smith. {}``Turn up the gas? Ah, the
shadows begin to fall, do they? Yes, I will turn it up, that I may
see you the better.'' He crossed the room and the light suddenly
brightened. {}``Is there any other little service that I can do you,
my friend?''

{}``A match and a cigarette.''

I nearly called out in my joy and my amazement. He was speaking in
his natural voice\mdsh{---}a little weak, perhaps, but the very
voice I knew. There was a long pause, and I felt that Culverton Smith
was standing in silent amazement looking down at his companion.

{}``What's the meaning of this?''\ I heard him say at last in a
dry, rasping tone.

{}``The best way of successfully acting a part is to be it,''\ said
Holmes. {}``I give you my word that for three days I have tasted
neither food nor drink until you were good enough to pour me out that
glass of water. But it is the tobacco which I find most irksome. Ah,
here \textit{are} some cigarettes.'' I heard the striking of a match.
{}``That is very much better. Halloa!\ halloa! Do I hear the step
of a friend?''

There were footfalls outside, the door opened, and Inspector Morton
appeared.

{}``All is in order and this is your man,''\ said Holmes.

The officer gave the usual cautions.

{}``I arrest you on the charge of the murder of one Victor Savage,''
he concluded.

{}``And you might add of the attempted murder of one Sherlock Holmes,''\ remarked
my friend with a chuckle. {}``To save an invalid trouble, Inspector,
Mr.\ Culverton Smith was good enough to give our signal by turning
up the gas. By the way, the prisoner has a small box in the right-hand
pocket of his coat which it would be as well to remove. Thank you.
I would handle it gingerly if I were you. Put it down here. It may
play its part in the trial.''

There was a sudden rush and a scuffle, followed by the clash of iron
and a cry of pain.

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-dyin-04.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{{}``You'll only get yourself hurt,''\ said
the inspector. {}``Stand still, will you?''}\end{center}
\end{figure}
{}``You'll only get yourself hurt,''\ said the inspector. {}``Stand
still, will you?''\  There was the click of the closing handcuffs.

{}``A nice trap!''\ cried the high, snarling voice. {}``It will
bring \textit{you} into the dock, Holmes, not me. He asked me to come
here to cure him. I was sorry for him and I came. Now he will pretend,
no doubt, that I have said anything which he may invent which will
corroborate his insane suspicions. You can lie as you like, Holmes.
My word is always as good as yours.''

{}``Good heavens!''\ cried Holmes. {}``I had totally forgotten
him. My dear Watson, I owe you a thousand apologies. To think that
I should have overlooked you! I need not introduce you to Mr.\ Culverton
Smith, since I understand that you met somewhat earlier in the evening.
Have you the cab below? I will follow you when I am dressed, for I
may be of some use at the station.

{}``I never needed it more,''\ said Holmes as he refreshed himself
with a glass of claret and some biscuits in the intervals of his toilet.
{}``However, as you know, my habits are irregular, and such a feat
means less to me than to most men. It was very essential that I should
impress Mrs.\ Hudson with the reality of my condition, since she
was to convey it to you, and you in turn to him. You won't be offended,
Watson? You will realize that among your many talents dissimulation
finds no place, and that if you had shared my secret you would never
have been able to impress Smith with the urgent necessity of his presence,
which was the vital point of the whole scheme. Knowing his vindictive
nature, I was perfectly certain that he would come to look upon his
handiwork.''

{}``But your appearance, Holmes\mdsh{---}your ghastly face?''

{}``Three days of absolute fast does not improve one's beauty, Watson.
For the rest, there is nothing which a sponge may not cure. With \textit{\emph{vaseline}}
upon one's forehead, belladonna in one's eyes, rouge over the cheek-bones,
and crusts of beeswax round one's lips, a very satisfying effect can
be produced. Malingering is a subject upon which I have sometimes
thought of writing a monograph. A little occasional talk about half-crowns,
oysters, or any other extraneous subject produces a pleasing effect
of delirium.''

{}``But why would you not let me near you, since there was in truth
no infection?''

{}``Can you ask, my dear Watson? Do you imagine that I have no respect
for your medical talents? Could I fancy that your astute judgment
would pass a dying man who, however weak, had no rise of pulse or
temperature? At four yards, I could deceive you. If I failed to do
so, who would bring my Smith within my grasp? No, Watson, I would
not touch that box. You can just see if you look at it sideways where
the sharp spring like a viper's tooth emerges as you open it. I dare
say it was by some such device that poor Savage, who stood between
this monster and a reversion, was done to death. My correspondence,
however, is, as you know, a varied one, and I am somewhat upon my
guard against any packages which reach me. It was clear to me, however,
that by pretending that he had really succeeded in his design I might
surprise a confession. That pretence I have carried out with the thoroughness
of the true artist. Thank you, Watson, you must help me on with my
coat. When we have finished at the police-station I think that something
nutritious at Simpson's would not be out of place.''


\chapter*{\raggedright The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax\protect \\
{\large Illustrations by Alec Ball}}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{The Disappearance of\\
Lady Frances Carfax}

\markboth{His Last Bow}{Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax}

{}``But why Turkish?''\ asked Mr.\ Sherlock Holmes, gazing fixedly
at my boots. I was reclining in a cane-backed chair at the moment,
and my protruded feet had attracted his ever-active attention.

{}``English,''\ I answered in some surprise. {}``I got them at
Latimer's, in Oxford Street.''

Holmes smiled with an expression of weary patience.

{}``The bath!''\ he said; {}``the bath! Why the relaxing and expensive
Turkish rather than the invigorating home-made article?''

{}``Because for the last few days I have been feeling rheumatic and
old. A Turkish bath is what we call an alterative in medicine\mdsh{---}a
fresh starting-point, a cleanser of the system.

{}``By the way, Holmes,''\ I added, {}``I have no doubt the connection
between my boots and a Turkish bath is a perfectly self-evident one
to a logical mind, and yet I should be obliged to you if you would
indicate it.''

{}``The train of reasoning is not very obscure, Watson,''\ said
Holmes with a mischievous twinkle. {}``It belongs to the same elementary
class of deduction which I should illustrate if I were to ask you
who shared your cab in your drive this morning.''

{}``I don't admit that a fresh illustration is an explanation,''\ said
I with some asperity.

{}``Bravo, Watson! A very dignified and logical remonstrance. Let
me see, what were the points? Take the last one first\mdsh{---}the
cab. You observe that you have some splashes on the left sleeve and
shoulder of your coat. Had you sat in the centre of a hansom you would
probably have had no splashes, and if you had they would certainly
have been symmetrical. Therefore it is clear that you sat at the side.
Therefore it is equally clear that you had a companion.''

{}``That is very evident.''

{}``Absurdly commonplace, is it not?''

{}``But the boots and the bath?''

{}``Equally childish. You are in the habit of doing up your boots
in a certain way. I see them on this occasion fastened with an elaborate
double bow, which is not your usual method of tying them. You have,
therefore, had them off. Who has tied them? A bootmaker\mdsh{---}or
the boy at the bath. It is unlikely that it is the bootmaker, since
your boots are nearly new. Well, what remains? The bath. Absurd, is
it not? But, for all that, the Turkish bath has served a purpose.''

{}``What is that?''

{}``You say that you have had it because you need a change. Let me
suggest that you take one. How would Lausanne do, my dear Watson\mdsh{---}first-class
tickets and all expenses paid on a princely scale?''

{}``Splendid! But why?''

Holmes leaned back in his armchair and took his notebook from his
pocket.

{}``One of the most dangerous classes in the world,''\ said he,
{}``is the drifting and friendless woman. She is the most harmless
and often the most useful of mortals, but she is the inevitable inciter
of crime in others. She is helpless. She is migratory. She has sufficient
means to take her from country to country and from hotel to hotel.
She is lost, as often as not, in a maze of obscure pensions and boardinghouses.
She is a stray chicken in a world of foxes. When she is gobbled up
she is hardly missed. I much fear that some evil has come to the Lady
Frances Carfax.''

I was relieved at this sudden descent from the general to the particular.
Holmes consulted his notes.

{}``Lady Frances,''\ he continued, {}``is the sole survivor of
the direct family of the late Earl of Rufton. The estates went, as
you may remember, in the male line. She was left with limited means,
but with some very remarkable old Spanish jewellery of silver and
curiously cut diamonds to which she was fondly attached\mdsh{---}too
attached, for she refused to leave them with her banker and always
carried them about with her. A rather pathetic figure, the Lady Frances,
a beautiful woman, still in fresh middle age, and yet, by a strange
change, the last derelict of what only twenty years ago was a goodly
fleet.''

{}``What has happened to her, then?''

{}``Ah, what has happened to the Lady Frances? Is she alive or dead?
There is our problem. She is a lady of precise habits, and for four
years it has been her invariable custom to write every second week
to Miss Dobney, her old governess, who has long retired and lives
in Camberwell. It is this Miss Dobney who has consulted me. Nearly
five weeks have passed without a word. The last letter was from the
Hotel National at Lausanne. Lady Frances seems to have left there
and given no address. The family are anxious, and as they are exceedingly
wealthy no sum will be spared if we can clear the matter up.''

{}``Is Miss Dobney the only source of information? Surely she had
other correspondents?''

{}``There is one correspondent who is a sure draw, Watson. That is
the bank. Single ladies must live, and their passbooks are compressed
diaries. She banks at Silvester's. I have glanced over her account.
The last check but one paid her bill at Lausanne, but it was a large
one and probably left her with cash in hand. Only one check has been
drawn since.''

{}``To whom, and where?''

{}``To Miss Marie Devine. There is nothing to show where the check
was drawn. It was cashed at the Credit Lyonnais at Montpellier less
than three weeks ago. The sum was fifty pounds.''

{}``And who is Miss Marie Devine?''

{}``That also I have been able to discover. Miss Marie Devine was
the maid of Lady Frances Carfax. Why she should have paid her this
check we have not yet determined. I have no doubt, however, that your
researches will soon clear the matter up.''

{}``\textit{My} researches!''

{}``Hence the health-giving expedition to Lausanne. You know that
I cannot possibly leave London while old Abrahams is in such mortal
terror of his life. Besides, on general principles it is best that
I should not leave the country. Scotland Yard feels lonely without
me, and it causes an unhealthy excitement among the criminal classes.
Go, then, my dear Watson, and if my humble counsel can ever be valued
at so extravagant a rate as two pence a word, it waits your disposal
night and day at the end of the Continental wire.''

Two days later found me at the Hotel National at Lausanne, where I
received every courtesy at the hands of M.\ Moser, the well-known
manager. Lady Frances, as he informed me, had stayed there for several
weeks. She had been much liked by all who met her. Her age was not
more than forty. She was still handsome and bore every sign of having
in her youth been a very lovely woman. M.\ Moser knew nothing of
any valuable jewellery, but it had been remarked by the servants that
the heavy trunk in the lady's bedroom was always scrupulously locked.
Marie Devine, the maid, was as popular as her mistress. She was actually
engaged to one of the head waiters in the hotel, and there was no
difficulty in getting her address. It was 11 Rue de Trajan, Montpellier.
All this I jotted down and felt that Holmes himself could not have
been more adroit in collecting his facts.

Only one corner still remained in the shadow. No light which I possessed
could clear up the cause for the lady's sudden departure. She was
very happy at Lausanne. There was every reason to believe that she
intended to remain for the season in her luxurious rooms overlooking
the lake. And yet she had left at a single day's notice, which involved
her in the useless payment of a week's rent. Only Jules Vibart, the
lover of the maid, had any suggestion to offer. He connected the sudden
departure with the visit to the hotel a day or two before of a tall,
dark, bearded man. {}``\textit{Un} \textit{sauvage}\mdsh{---}\textit{un}
\textit{veritable} \textit{sauvage}!'' cried Jules Vibart. The man
had rooms somewhere in the town. He had been seen talking earnestly
to Madame on the promenade by the lake. Then he had called. She had
refused to see him. He was English, but of his name there was no record.
Madame had left the place immediately afterwards. Jules Vibart, and,
what was of more importance, Jules Vibart's sweetheart, thought that
this call and the departure were cause and effect. Only one thing
Jules would not discuss. That was the reason why Marie had left her
mistress. Of that he could or would say nothing. If I wished to know,
I must go to Montpellier and ask her.

So ended the first chapter of my inquiry. The second was devoted to
the place which Lady Frances Carfax had sought when she left Lausanne.
Concerning this there had been some secrecy, which confirmed the idea
that she had gone with the intention of throwing someone off her track.
Otherwise why should not her luggage have been openly labelled for
Baden? Both she and it reached the Rhenish spa by some circuitous
route. This much I gathered from the manager of Cook's local office.
So to Baden I went, after dispatching to Holmes an account of all
my proceedings and receiving in reply a telegram of half-humorous
commendation.

At Baden the track was not difficult to follow. Lady Frances had stayed
at the Englischer Hof for a fortnight. While there she had made the
acquaintance of a Dr.\ Shlessinger and his wife, a missionary from
South America. Like most lonely ladies, Lady Frances found her comfort
and occupation in religion. Dr. Shlessinger's remarkable personality,
his whole hearted devotion, and the fact that he was recovering from
a disease contracted in the exercise of his apostolic duties affected
her deeply. %
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-lady-01.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{He spent his day upon a lounge-chair
on the veranda.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
She had helped Mrs.\ Shlessinger in the nursing of the convalescent
saint. He spent his day, as the manager described it to me, upon a
lounge-chair on the veranda, with an attendant lady upon either side
of him. He was preparing a map of the Holy Land, with special reference
to the kingdom of the Midianites, upon which he was writing a monograph.
Finally, having improved much in health, he and his wife had returned
to London, and Lady Frances had started thither in their company.
This was just three weeks before, and the manager had heard nothing
since. As to the maid, Marie, she had gone off some days beforehand
in floods of tears, after informing the other maids that she was leaving
service forever. Dr.\ Shlessinger had paid the bill of the whole
party before his departure.

{}``By the way,''\ said the landlord in conclusion, {}``you are
not the only friend of Lady Frances Carfax who is inquiring after
her just now. Only a week or so ago we had a man here upon the same
errand.''

{}``Did he give a name?''\ I asked.

{}``None; but he was an Englishman, though of an unusual type.''

{}``A savage?''\ said I, linking my facts after the fashion of
my illustrious friend.

{}``Exactly. That describes him very well. He is a bulky, bearded,
sunburned fellow, who looks as if he would be more at home in a farmers'\ inn
than in a fashionable hotel. A hard, fierce man, I should think, and
one whom I should be sorry to offend.''

Already the mystery began to define itself, as figures grow clearer
with the lifting of a fog. Here was this good and pious lady pursued
from place to place by a sinister and unrelenting figure. She feared
him, or she would not have fled from Lausanne. He had still followed.
Sooner or later he would overtake her. Had he already overtaken her?
Was \textit{that} the secret of her continued silence? Could the good
people who were her companions not screen her from his violence or
his blackmail? What horrible purpose, what deep design, lay behind
this long pursuit? There was the problem which I had to solve.

To Holmes I wrote showing how rapidly and surely I had got down to
the roots of the matter. In reply I had a telegram asking for a description
of Dr.\ Shlessinger's left ear. Holmes's ideas of humour are strange
and occasionally offensive, so I took no notice of his ill-timed jest\mdsh{---}indeed,
I had already reached Montpellier in my pursuit of the maid, Marie,
before his message came.

I had no difficulty in finding the ex-servant and in learning all
that she could tell me. She was a devoted creature, who had only left
her mistress because she was sure that she was in good hands, and
because her own approaching marriage made a separation inevitable
in any case. Her mistress had, as she confessed with distress, shown
some irritability of temper towards her during their stay in Baden,
and had even questioned her once as if she had suspicions of her honesty,
and this had made the parting easier than it would otherwise have
been. Lady Frances had given her fifty pounds as a wedding-present.
Like me, Marie viewed with deep distrust the stranger who had driven
her mistress from Lausanne. With her own eyes she had seen him seize
the lady's wrist with great violence on the public promenade by the
lake. He was a fierce and terrible man. She believed that it was out
of dread of him that Lady Frances had accepted the escort of the Shlessingers
to London. She had never spoken to Marie about it, but many little
signs had convinced the maid that her mistress lived in a state of
continual nervous apprehension. So far she had got in her narrative,
when suddenly she sprang from her chair and her face was convulsed
with surprise and fear. {}``See!''\ she cried. {}``The miscreant
follows still! There is the very man of whom I speak.''

Through the open sitting-room window I saw a huge, swarthy man with
a bristling black beard walking slowly down the centre of the street
and staring eagerly at he numbers of the houses. It was clear that,
like myself, he was on the track of the maid. Acting upon the impulse
of the moment, I rushed out and accosted him.

{}``You are an Englishman,''\ I said.

{}``What if I am?''\ he asked with a most villainous scowl.

{}``May I ask what your name is?''

{}``No, you may not,''\ said he with decision.

The situation was awkward, but the most direct way is often the best.

{}``Where is the Lady Frances Carfax?''\ I asked.

He stared at me with amazement.

{}``What have you done with her? Why have you pursued her? I insist
upon an answer!''\ said I.

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-lady-02.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{The fellow gave a below of anger and
sprang upon me like a tiger.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
The fellow gave a below of anger and sprang upon me like a tiger.
I have held my own in many a struggle, but the man had a grip of iron
and the fury of a fiend. His hand was on my throat and my senses were
nearly gone before an unshaven French \emph{ouvrier} in a blue blouse
darted out from a cabaret opposite, with a cudgel in his hand, and
struck my assailant a sharp crack over the forearm, which made him
leave go his hold. He stood for an instant fuming with rage and uncertain
whether he should not renew his attack. Then, with a snarl of anger,
he left me and entered the cottage from which I had just come. I turned
to thank my preserver, who stood beside me in the roadway.

{}``Well, Watson,''\ said he, {}``a very pretty hash you have
made of it! I rather think you had better come back with me to London
by the night express.''

An hour afterwards, Sherlock Holmes, in his usual garb and style,
was seated in my private room at the hotel. His explanation of his
sudden and opportune appearance was simplicity itself, for, finding
that he could get away from London, he determined to head me off at
the next obvious point of my travels. In the disguise of a workingman
he had sat in the cabaret waiting for my appearance.

{}``And a singularly consistent investigation you have made, my dear
Watson,''\ said he. {}``I cannot at the moment recall any possible
blunder which you have omitted. The total effect of your proceeding
has been to give the alarm everywhere and yet to discover nothing.''

{}``Perhaps you would have done no better,''\ I answered bitterly.

{}``There is no `perhaps'\ about it. I \textit{have} done better.
Here is the Hon.\ Philip Green, who is a fellow-lodger with you in
this hotel, and we may find him the starting-point for a more successful
investigation.''

A card had come up on a salver, and it was followed by the same bearded
ruffian who had attacked me in the street. He started when he saw
me.

{}``What is this, Mr.\ Holmes?''\ he asked. {}``I had your note
and I have come. But what has this man to do with the matter?''

{}``This is my old friend and associate, Dr.\ Watson, who is helping
us in this affair.''

The stranger held out a huge, sunburned hand, with a few words of
apology.

{}``I hope I didn't harm you. When you accused me of hurting her
I lost my grip of myself. Indeed, I'm not responsible in these days.
My nerves are like live wires. But this situation is beyond me. What
I want to know, in the first place, Mr.\ Holmes, is, how in the world
you came to hear of my existence at all.''

{}``I am in touch with Miss Dobney, Lady Frances's governess.''

{}``Old Susan Dobney with the mob cap! I remember her well.''

{}``And she remembers you. It was in the days before\mdsh{---}before
you found it better to go to South Africa.''

{}``Ah, I see you know my whole story. I need hide nothing from you.
I swear to you, Mr.\ Holmes, that there never was in this world a
man who loved a woman with a more wholehearted love than I had for
Frances. I was a wild youngster, I know\mdsh{---}not worse than
others of my class. But her mind was pure as snow. She could not bear
a shadow of coarseness. So, when she came to hear of things that I
had done, she would have no more to say to me. And yet she loved me\mdsh{---}that
is the wonder of it!\mdsh{---}loved me well enough to remain single
all her sainted days just for my sake alone. When the years had passed
and I had made my money at Barberton I thought perhaps I could seek
her out and soften her. I had heard that she was still unmarried,
I found her at Lausanne and tried all I knew. She weakened, I think,
but her will was strong, and when next I called she had left the town.
I traced her to Baden, and then after a time heard that her maid was
here. I'm a rough fellow, fresh from a rough life, and when Dr.\ Watson
spoke to me as he did I lost hold of myself for a moment. But for
God's sake tell me what has become of the Lady Frances.''

{}``That is for us to find out,''\ said Sherlock Holmes with peculiar
gravity. {}``What is your London address, Mr.\ Green?''

{}``The Langham Hotel will find me.''

{}``Then may I recommend that you return there and be on hand in
case I should want you? I have no desire to encourage false hopes,
but you may rest assured that all that can be done will be done for
the safety of Lady Frances. I can say no more for the instant. I will
leave you this card so that you may be able to keep in touch with
us. Now, Watson, if you will pack your bag I will cable to Mrs.\ Hudson
to make one of her best efforts for two hungry travellers at 7:30
to-morrow.''

A telegram was awaiting us when we reached our Baker Street rooms,
which Holmes read with an exclamation of interest and threw across
to me. {}``Jagged or torn,''\ was the message, and the place of
origin, Baden.

{}``What is this?''\ I asked.

{}``It is everything,''\ Holmes answered. {}``You may remember
my seemingly irrelevant question as to this clerical gentleman's left
ear. You did not answer it.''

{}``I had left Baden and could not inquire.''

{}``Exactly. For this reason I sent a duplicate to the manager of
the Englischer Hof, whose answer lies here.''

{}``What does it show?''

{}``It shows, my dear Watson, that we are dealing with an exceptionally
astute and dangerous man. The Rev.\ Dr.\ Shlessinger, missionary
from South America, is none other than Holy Peters, one of the most
unscrupulous rascals that Australia has ever evolved\mdsh{---}and
for a young country it has turned out some very finished types. His
particular specialty is the beguiling of lonely ladies by playing
upon their religious feelings, and his so-called wife, an Englishwoman
named Fraser, is a worthy helpmate. The nature of his tactics suggested
his identity to me, and this physical peculiarity\mdsh{---}he was
badly bitten in a saloon-fight at Adelaide in '89\mdsh{---}confirmed
my suspicion. This poor lady is in the hands of a most infernal couple,
who will stick at nothing, Watson. That she is already dead is a very
likely supposition. If not, she is undoubtedly in some sort of confinement
and unable to write to Miss Dobney or her other friends. It is always
possible that she never reached London, or that she has passed through
it, but the former is improbable, as, with their system of registration,
it is not easy for foreigners to play tricks with the Continental
police; and the latter is also unlikely, as \textit{\emph{these}}
\emph{}\textit{\emph{rogues}} could not hope to find any other place
where it would be as easy to keep a person under restraint. All my
instincts tell me that she is in London, but as we have at present
no possible means of telling where, we can only take the obvious steps,
eat our dinner, and possess our souls in patience. Later in the evening
I will stroll down and have a word with friend Lestrade at Scotland
Yard.''

But neither the official police nor Holmes's own small but very efficient
organization sufficed to clear away the mystery. Amid the crowded
millions of London the three persons we sought were as completely
obliterated as if they had never lived. Advertisements were tried,
and failed. Clues were followed, and led to nothing. Every criminal
resort which Shlessinger might frequent was drawn in vain. His old
associates were watched, but they kept clear of him. And then suddenly,
after a week of helpless suspense there came a flash of light. A silver-and-brilliant
pendant of old Spanish design had been pawned at Bovington's, in Westminster
Road. The pawner was a large, clean-shaven man of clerical appearance.
His name and address were demonstrably false. The ear had escaped
notice, but the description was surely that of Shlessinger.

Three times had our bearded friend from the Langham called for news\mdsh{---}the
third time within an hour of this fresh development. His clothes were
getting looser on his great body. He seemed to be wilting away in
his anxiety. {}``If you will only give me something to do!''\ was
his constant wail. At last Holmes could oblige him.

{}``He has begun to pawn the jewels. We should get him now.''

{}``But does this mean that any harm has befallen the Lady Frances?''

Holmes shook his head very gravely.

{}``Supposing that they have held her prisoner up to now, it is clear
that they cannot let her loose without their own destruction. We must
prepare for the worst.''

{}``What can I do?''

{}``These people do not know you by sight?''

{}``No.''

{}``It is possible that he will go to some other pawnbroker in the
future.\  in that case, we must begin again. On the other hand, he
has had a fair price and no questions asked, so if he is in need of
ready-money he will probably come back to Bovington's. I will give
you a note to them, and they will let you wait in the shop. If the
fellow comes you will follow him home. But no indiscretion, and, above
all, no violence. I put you on your honour that you will take no step
without my knowledge and consent.''

For two days the Hon.\ Philip Green (he was, I may mention, the son
of the famous admiral of that name who commanded the Sea of Azof fleet
in the Crimean War)\ brought us no news. On the evening of the third
he rushed into our sitting-room, pale, trembling, with every muscle
of his powerful frame quivering with excitement.

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-lady-03.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{{}``We have him! We have him!''\ he
cried.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
{}``We have him! We have him!''\ he cried.

He was incoherent in his agitation. Holmes soothed him with a few
words and thrust him into an armchair.

{}``Come, now, give us the order of events,''\ said he.

{}``She came only an hour ago. It was the wife, this time, but the
pendant she brought was the fellow of the other. She is a tall, pale
woman, with ferret eyes.''

{}``That is the lady,''\ said Holmes.

{}``She left the office and I followed her. She walked up the Kennington
Road, and I kept behind her. Presently she went into a shop. Mr.\ Holmes,
it was an undertaker's.''

My companion started. {}``Well?''\ he asked in that vibrant voice
which told of the fiery soul behind the cold gray face.

{}``She was talking to the woman behind the counter. I entered as
well. `It is late,'\ I heard her say, or words to that effect. The
woman was excusing herself. `It should be there before now,' she answered.
`It took longer, being out of the ordinary.' They both stopped and
looked at me, so I asked some questions and then left the shop.''

{}``You did excellently well. What happened next?''

{}``The woman came out, but I had hid myself in a doorway. Her suspicions
had been aroused, I think, for she looked round her. Then she called
a cab and got in. I was lucky enough to get another and so to follow
her. She got down at last at No.\ 36, Poultney Square, Brixton. I
drove past, left my cab at the corner of the square, and watched the
house.''

{}``Did you see anyone?''

{}``The windows were all in darkness save one on the lower floor.
The blind was down, and I could not see in. I was standing there,
wondering what I should do next, when a covered van drove up with
two men in it. They descended, took something out of the van, and
carried it up the steps to the hall door. Mr.\ Holmes, it was a coffin.''

{}``Ah!''

{}``For an instant I was on the point of rushing in. The door had
been opened to admit the men and their burden. It was the woman who
had opened it. But as I stood there she caught a glimpse of me, and
I think that she recognized me. I saw her start, and she hastily closed
the door. I remembered my promise to you, and here I am.''

{}``You have done excellent work,''\ said Holmes, scribbling a
few words upon a half-sheet of paper. {}``We can do nothing legal
without a warrant, and you can serve the cause best by taking this
note down to the authorities and getting one. There may be some difficulty,
but I should think that the sale of the jewellery should be sufficient.
Lestrade will see to all details.''

{}``But they may murder her in the meanwhile. What could the coffin
mean, and for whom could it be but for her?''

{}``We will do all that can be done, Mr.\ Green. Not a moment will
be lost. Leave it in our hands. Now Watson,''\ he added as our client
hurried away, {}``he will set the regular forces on the move. We
are, as usual, the irregulars, and we must take our own line of action.
The situation strikes me as so desperate that the most extreme measures
are justified. Not a moment is to be lost in getting to Poultney Square.

{}``Let us try to reconstruct the situation,''\ said he as we drove
swiftly past the Houses of Parliament and over Westminster Bridge.
{}``These villains have coaxed this unhappy lady to London, after
first alienating her from her faithful maid. If she has written any
letters they have been intercepted. Through some confederate they
have engaged a furnished house. Once inside it, they have made her
a prisoner, and they have become possessed of the valuable jewellery
which has been their object from the first. Already they have begun
to sell part of it, which seems safe enough to them, since they have
no reason to think that anyone is interested in the lady's fate. When
she is released she will, of course, denounce them. Therefore, she
must not be released. But they cannot keep her under lock and key
forever. So murder is their only solution.''

{}``That seems very clear.''

{}``Now we will take another line of reasoning. When you follow two
separate chains of thought, Watson, you will find some point of intersection
which should approximate to the truth. We will start now, not from
the lady but from the coffin and argue backward. That incident proves,
I fear, beyond all doubt that the lady is dead. It points also to
an orthodox burial with proper accompaniment of medical certificate
and official sanction. Had the lady been obviously murdered, they
would have buried her in a hole in the back garden. But here all is
open and regular. What does this mean? Surely that they have done
her to death in some way which has deceived the doctor and simulated
a natural end\mdsh{---}poisoning, perhaps. And yet how strange that
they should ever let a doctor approach her unless he were a confederate,
which is hardly a credible proposition.''

{}``Could they have forged a medical certificate?''

{}``Dangerous, Watson, very dangerous. No, I hardly see them doing
that. Pull up, cabby! This is evidently the undertaker's, for we have
just passed the pawnbroker's. Would you go in, Watson? Your appearance
inspires confidence. Ask what hour the Poultney Square funeral takes
place to-morrow.''

The woman in the shop answered me without hesitation that it was to
be at eight o'clock in the morning. {}``You see, Watson, no mystery;
everything above-board! In some way the legal forms have undoubtedly
been complied with, and they think that they have little to fear.
Well, there's nothing for it now but a direct frontal attack. Are
you armed?''

{}``My stick!''

{}``Well, well, we shall be strong enough. `Thrice is he armed who
hath his quarrel just.' We simply can't afford to wait for the police
or to keep within the four corners of the law. You can drive off,
cabby. Now, Watson, we'll just take our luck together, as we have
occasionally in the past.''

He had rung loudly at the door of a great dark house in the centre
of Poultney Square. It was opened immediately, and the figure of a
tall woman was outlined against the dim-lit hall.

{}``Well, what do you want?''\ she asked sharply, peering at us
through the darkness.

{}``I want to speak to Dr.\ Shlessinger,''\ said Holmes.

{}``There is no such person here,''\ she answered, and tried to
close the door, but Holmes had jammed it with his foot.

{}``Well, I want to see the man who lives here, whatever he may call
himself,''\ said Holmes firmly.

She hesitated. Then she threw open the door. {}``Well, come in!''
said she. {}``My husband is not afraid to face any man in the world.''
She closed the door behind us and showed us into a sitting-room on
the right side of the hall, turning up the gas as she left us. {}``Mr.\ Peters
will be with you in an instant,''\ she said.

Her words were literally true, for we had hardly time to look around
the dusty and moth-eaten apartment in which we found ourselves before
the door opened and a big, clean-shaven bald-headed man stepped lightly
into the room. He had a large red face, with pendulous cheeks, and
a general air of superficial benevolence which was marred by a cruel,
vicious mouth.

{}``There is surely some mistake here, gentlemen,''\ he said in
an unctuous, make-everything-easy voice. {}``I fancy that you have
been misdirected. Possibly if you tried farther down the street---''

{}``That will do; we have no time to waste,''\ said my companion
firmly. {}``You are Henry Peters, of Adelaide, late the Rev.\ Dr.\ Shlessinger,
of Baden and South America. I am as sure of that as that my own name
is Sherlock Holmes.''

Peters, as I will now call him, started and stared hard at his formidable
pursuer. {}``I guess your name does not frighten me, Mr.\ Holmes,''\ said
he coolly. {}``When a man's conscience is easy you can't rattle him.
What is your business in my house?''

{}``I want to know what you have done with the Lady Frances Carfax,
whom you brought away with you from Baden.''

{}``I'd be very glad if you could tell me where that lady may be,''
Peters answered coolly. {}``I've a bill against her for a nearly
a hundred pounds, and nothing to show for it but a couple of trumpery
pendants that the dealer would hardly look at. She attached herself
to Mrs.\ Peters and me at Baden\mdsh{---}it is a fact that I was
using another name at the time\mdsh{---}and she stuck on to us until
we came to London. I paid her bill and her ticket. Once in London,
she gave us the slip, and, as I say, left these out-of-date jewels
to pay her bills. You find her, Mr.\ Holmes, and I'm your debtor.''

{}``I \textit{mean} to find her,''\ said Sherlock Holmes. {}``I'm
going through this house till I do find her.''

{}``Where is your warrant?''

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-lady-04.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{Holmes half drew a revolver from his
pocket.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
Holmes half drew a revolver from his pocket. {}``This will have to
serve till a better one comes.''

{}``Why, you're a common burglar.''

{}``So you might describe me,''\ said Holmes cheerfully. {}``My
companion is also a dangerous ruffian. And together we are going through
your house.''

Our opponent opened the door.

{}``Fetch a policeman, Annie!''\ said he. There was a whisk of
feminine skirts down the passage, and the hall door was opened and
shut.

{}``Our time is limited, Watson,''\ said Holmes. {}``If you try
to stop us, Peters, you will most certainly get hurt. Where is that
coffin which was brought into your house?''

{}``What do you want with the coffin? It is in use. There is a body
in it.''

{}``I must see the body.''

{}``Never with my consent.''

{}``Then without it.'' With a quick movement Holmes pushed the fellow
to one side and passed into the hall. A door half opened stood immediately
before us. We entered. It was the dining-room. On the table, under
a half-lit chandelier, the coffin was lying. Holmes turned up the
gas and raised the lid. Deep down in the recesses of the coffin lay
an emaciated figure. The glare from the lights above beat down upon
an aged and withered face. By no possible process of cruelty, starvation,
or disease could this wornout wreck be the still beautiful Lady Frances.
Holmes's face showed his amazement, and also his relief.

{}``Thank God!''\ he muttered. {}``It's someone else.''

{}``Ah, you've blundered badly for once, Mr.\ Sherlock Holmes,''\ said
Peters, who had followed us into the room.

{}``Who is the dead woman?''

{}``Well, if you really must know, she is an old nurse of my wife's,
Rose Spender by name, whom we found in the Brixton Workhouse Infirmary.
We brought her round here, called in Dr.\ Horsom, of 13 Firbank Villas\mdsh{---}mind
you take the address, Mr.\ Holmes\mdsh{---}and had her carefully
tended, as Christian folk should. On the third day she died\mdsh{---}certificate
says senile decay\mdsh{---}but that's only the doctor's opinion,
and of course you know better. We ordered her funeral to be carried
out by Stimson and Co., of the Kennington Road, who will bury her
at eight o'clock to-morrow morning. Can you pick any hole in that,
Mr.\ Holmes? You've made a silly blunder, and you may as well own
up to it. I'd give something for a photograph of your gaping, staring
face when you pulled aside that lid expecting to see the Lady Frances
Carfax and only found a poor old woman of ninety.''

Holmes's expression was as impassive as ever under the jeers of his
antagonist, but his clenched hands betrayed his acute annoyance.

{}``I am going through your house,''\ said he.

{}``Are you, though!''\ cried Peters as a woman's voice and heavy
steps sounded in the passage. {}``We'll soon see about that. This
way, officers, if you please. These men have forced their way into
my house, and I cannot get rid of them. Help me to put them out.''

A sergeant and a constable stood in the doorway. Holmes drew his card
from his case.

{}``This is my name and address. This is my friend, Dr.\ Watson.''

{}``Bless you, sir, we know you very well,''\ said the sergeant,
{}``but you can't stay here without a warrant.''

{}``Of course not. I quite understand that.''

{}``Arrest him!''\ cried Peters.

{}``We know where to lay our hands on this gentleman if he is wanted,''\ said
the sergeant majestically, {}``but you'll have to go, Mr.\ Holmes.''

{}``Yes, Watson, we shall have to go.''

A minute later we were in the street once more. Holmes was as cool
as ever, but I was hot with anger and humiliation. The sergeant had
followed us.

{}``Sorry, Mr.\ Holmes, but that's the law.''

{}``Exactly, Sergeant, you could not do otherwise.''

{}``I expect there was good reason for your presence there. If there
is anything I can do\mdsh{---}''

{}``It's a missing lady, Sergeant, and we think she is in that house.
I expect a warrant presently.''

{}``Then I'll keep my eye on the parties, Mr.\ Holmes. If anything
comes along, I will surely let you know.''

It was only nine o'clock, and we were off full cry upon the trail
at once. First we drove to Brixton Workhoused Infirmary, where we
found that it was indeed the truth that a charitable couple had called
some days before, that they had claimed an imbecile old woman as a
former servant, and that they had obtained permission to take her
away with them. No surprise was expressed at the news that she had
since died.

The doctor was our next goal. He had been called in, had found the
woman dying of pure senility, had actually seen her pass away, and
had signed the certificate in due form. {}``I assure you that everything
was perfectly normal and there was no room for foul play in the matter,''\ said
he. Nothing in the house had struck him as suspicious save that for
people of their class it was remarkable that they should have no servant.
So far and no further went the doctor.

Finally we found our way to Scotland Yard. There had been difficulties
of procedure in regard to the warrant. Some delay was inevitable.
The magistrate's signature might not be obtained until next morning.
If Holmes would call about nine he could go down with Lestrade and
see it acted upon. So ended the day, save that near midnight our friend,
the sergeant, called to say that he had seen flickering lights here
and there in the windows of the great dark house, but that no one
had left it and none had entered. We could but pray for patience and
wait for the morrow.

Sherlock Holmes was too irritable for conversation and too restless
for sleep. I left him smoking hard, with his heavy, dark brows knotted
together, and his long, nervous fingers tapping upon the arms of his
chair, as he turned over in his mind every possible solution of the
mystery. Several times in the course of the night I heard him prowling
about the house. Finally, just after I had been called in the morning,
he rushed into my room. He was in his dressing-gown, but his pale,
hollow-eyed face told me that his night had been a sleepless one.

{}``What time was the funeral? Eight, was it not?''\ he asked eagerly.
{}``Well, it is 7:20 now. Good heavens, Watson, what has become of
any brains that God has given me? Quick, man, quick! It's life or
death\mdsh{---}a hundred chances on death to one on life. I'll never
forgive myself, never, if we are too late!''

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-lady-05.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{Holmes darted forward and barred their
way.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
Five minutes had not passed before we were flying in a hansom down
Baker Street. But even so it was twenty-five to eight as we passed
Big Ben, and eight struck as we tore down the Brixton Road. But others
were late as well as we. Ten minutes after the hour the hearse was
still standing at the door of the house, and even as our foaming horse
came to a halt the coffin, supported by three men, appeared on the
threshold. Holmes darted forward and barred their way.

{}``Take it back!''\ he cried, laying his hand on the breast of
the foremost. {}``Take it back this instant!''

{}``What the devil do you mean? Once again I ask you, where is your
warrant?''\ shouted the furious Peters, his big red face glaring
over the farther end of the coffin.

{}``The warrant is on its way. The coffin shall remain in the house
until it comes.''

The authority in Holmes's voice had its effect upon the bearers. Peters
had suddenly vanished into the house, and they obeyed these new orders.
{}``Quick, Watson, quick! Here is a screw-driver!''\ he shouted
as the coffin was replaced upon the table. {}``Here's one for you,
my man! A sovereign if the lid comes off in a minute! Ask no questions\mdsh{---}work
away! That's good! Another! And another! Now pull all together! It's
giving! It's giving! Ah, that does it at last.''

With a united effort we tore off the coffin-lid. As we did so there
came from the inside a stupefying and overpowering smell of chloroform.
A body lay within, its head all wreathed in cotton-wool, which had
been soaked in the narcotic. Holmes plucked it off and disclosed the
statuesque face of a handsome and spiritual woman of middle age. In
an instant he had passed his arm round the figure and raised her to
a sitting position.

{}``Is she gone, Watson? Is there a spark left? Surely we are not
too late!''

For half an hour it seemed that we were. What with actual suffocation,
and what with the poisonous fumes of the chloroform, the Lady Frances
seemed to have passed the last point of recall. And then, at last,
with artificial respiration, with injected ether, and with every device
that science could suggest, some flutter of life, some quiver of the
eyelids, some dimming of a mirror, spoke of the slowly returning life.
A cab had driven up, and Holmes, parting the blind, looked out at
it. {}``Here is Lestrade with his warrant,''\ said he. {}``He
will find that his birds have flown. And here,''\ he added as a
heavy step hurried along the passage, {}``is someone who has a better
right to nurse this lady than we have. Good morning, Mr.\ Green;
I think that the sooner we can move the Lady Frances the better. Meanwhile,
the funeral may proceed, and the poor old woman who still lies in
that coffin may go to her last resting-place alone.''

\bigskip{}
{}``Should you care to add the case to your annals, my dear Watson,''
said Holmes that evening, {}``it can only be as an example of that
temporary eclipse to which even the best-balanced mind may be exposed.
Such slips are common to all mortals, and the greatest is he who can
recognize and repair them. To this modified credit I may, perhaps,
make some claim. My night was haunted by the thought that somewhere
a clue, a strange sentence, a curious observation, had come under
my notice and had been too easily dismissed. Then, suddenly, in the
gray of the morning, the words came back to me. It was the remark
of the undertaker's wife, as reported by Philip Green. She had said,
`It should be there before now. It took longer, being out of the ordinary.'
It was the coffin of which she spoke. It had been out of the ordinary.
That could only mean that it had been made to some special measurement.
But why? Why? Then in an instant I remembered the deep sides, and
the little wasted figure at the bottom. Why so large a coffin for
so small a body? To leave room for another body. Both would be buried
under the one certificate. It had all been so clear, if only my own
sight had not been dimmed. At eight the Lady Frances would be buried.
Our one chance was to stop the coffin before it left the house.

{}``It was a desperate chance that we might find her alive, but it
\textit{was} a chance, as the result showed. These people had never,
to my knowledge, done a murder. They might shrink from actual violence
at the last. They could bury her with no sign of how she met her end,
and even if she were exhumed there was a chance for them. I hoped
that such considerations might prevail with them. You can reconstruct
the scene well enough. You saw the horrible den upstairs, where the
poor lady had been kept so long. They rushed in and overpowered her
with their chloroform, carried her down, poured more into the coffin
to insure against her waking, and then screwed down the lid. A clever
device, Watson. It is new to me in the annals of crime. If our ex-missionary
friends escape the clutches of Lestrade, I shall expect to hear of
some brilliant incidents in their future career.''


\chapter*{\raggedright The Adventure of the Devil's Foot\protect \\
{\large Illustrations by Gilbert Halliday}}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{The Adventure of the Devil's Foot}

\markboth{His Last Bow}{The Adventure of the Devil's Foot}

In recording from time to time some of the curious experiences and
interesting recollections which I associate with my long and intimate
friendship with Mr.\ Sherlock Holmes, I have continually been faced
by difficulties caused by his own aversion to publicity. To his sombre
and cynical spirit all popular applause was always abhorrent, and
nothing amused him more at the end of a successful case than to hand
over the actual exposure to some orthodox official, and to listen
with a mocking smile to the general chorus of misplaced congratulation.
It was indeed this attitude upon the part of my friend and certainly
not any lack of interesting material which has caused me of late years
to lay very few of my records before the public. My participation
in some of his adventures was always a privilege which entailed discretion
and reticence upon me.

It was, then, with considerable surprise that I received a telegram
from Homes last Tuesday\mdsh{---}he has never been known to write
where a telegram would serve\mdsh{---}in the following terms:\ 

\begin{quote}
Why not tell them of the Cornish horror\mdsh{---}strangest case
I have handled.
\end{quote}
I have no idea what backward sweep of memory had brought the matter
fresh to his mind, or what freak had caused him to desire that I should
recount it; but I hasten, before another cancelling telegram may arrive,
to hunt out the notes which give me the exact details of the case
and to lay the narrative before my readers.

It was, then, in the spring of the year 1897 that Holmes's iron constitution
showed some symptoms of giving way in the face of constant hard work
of a most exacting kind, aggravated, perhaps, by occasional \textit{\emph{indiscretions}}
of his own. In March of that year Dr.\ Moore Agar, of Harley Street,
whose dramatic introduction to Holmes I may some day recount, gave
positive injunctions that the famous private agent lay aside all his
cases and surrender himself to complete rest if he wished to avert
an absolute breakdown. The state of his health was not a matter in
which he himself took the faintest interest, for his mental detachment
was absolute, but he was induced at last, on the threat of being permanently
disqualified from work, to give himself a complete change of scene
and air. Thus it was that in the early spring of that year we found
ourselves together in a small cottage near Poldhu Bay, at the further
extremity of the Cornish peninsula.

It was a singular spot, and one peculiarly well suited to the grim
humour of my patient. From the windows of our little whitewashed house,
which stood high upon a grassy headland, we looked down upon the whole
sinister semicircle of Mounts Bay, that old death trap of sailing
vessels, with its fringe of black cliffs and surge-swept reefs on
which innumerable seamen have met their end. With a northerly breeze
it lies placid and sheltered, inviting the storm-tossed craft to tack
into it for rest and protection.

Then come the sudden swirl round of the wind, the blistering gale
from the south-west, the dragging anchor, the lee shore, and the last
battle in the creaming breakers. The wise mariner stands far out from
that evil place.

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-devi-01.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{He spent much of his time in long
walks.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
On the land side our surroundings were as sombre as on the sea. It
was a country of rolling moors, lonely and dun-colored, with an occasional
church tower to mark the site of some old-world village. In every
direction upon these moors there were traces of some vanished race
which had passed utterly away, and left as it sole record strange
monuments of stone, irregular mounds which contained the burned ashes
of the dead, and curious earthworks which hinted at prehistoric strife.
The glamour and mystery of the place, with its sinister atmosphere
of forgotten nations, appealed to the imagination of my friend, and
he spent much of his time in long walks and solitary meditations upon
the moor. The ancient Cornish language had also arrested his attention,
and he had, I remember, conceived the idea that it was akin to the
Chaldean, and had been largely derived from the Phoenician traders
in tin. He had received a consignment of books upon philology and
was settling down to develop this thesis when suddenly, to my sorrow
and to his unfeigned delight, we found ourselves, even in that land
of dreams, plunged into a problem at our very doors which was more
intense, more engrossing, and infinitely more mysterious than any
of those which had driven us from London. Our simple life and peaceful,
healthy routine were violently interrupted, and we were precipitated
into the midst of a series of events which caused the utmost excitement
not only in Cornwall but throughout the whole west of England. Many
of my readers may retain some recollection of what was called at the
time {}``The Cornish Horror,''\ though a most imperfect account
of the matter reached the London press. Now, after thirteen years,
I will give the true details of this inconceivable affair to the public.

I have said that scattered towers marked the villages which dotted
this part of Cornwall. The nearest of these was the hamlet of Tredannick
Wollas, where the cottages of a couple of hundred inhabitants clustered
round an ancient, moss-grown church. The vicar of the parish, Mr.\ Roundhay,
was something of an archaeologist, and as such Holmes had made his
acquaintance. He was a middle-aged man, portly and affable, with a
considerable fund of local lore. At his invitation we had taken tea
at the vicarage and had come to know, also, Mr.\ Mortimer Tregennis,
an independent gentleman, who increased the clergyman's scanty resources
by taking rooms in his large, straggling house. The vicar, being a
bachelor, was glad to come to such an arrangement, though he had little
in common with his lodger, who was a thin, dark, spectacled man, with
a stoop which gave the impression of actual, physical deformity. I
remember that during our short visit we found the vicar garrulous,
but his lodger strangely reticent, a sad-faced, introspective man,
sitting with averted eyes, brooding apparently upon his own affairs.

These were the two men who entered abruptly into our little sitting-room
on Tuesday, March the 16th, shortly after our breakfast hour, as we
were smoking together, preparatory to our daily excursion upon the
moors.

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-devi-02.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{{}``The most extraordinary and tragic
affair has occurred during the night.''}\end{center}
\end{figure}
{}``Mr.\ Holmes,''\ said the vicar in an agitated voice, {}``the
most extraordinary and tragic affair has occurred during the night.
It is the most unheard-of business. We can only regard it as a special
Providence that you should chance to be here at the time, for in all
England you are the one man we need.''

I glared at the intrusive vicar with no very friendly eyes; but Holmes
took his pipe from his lips and sat up in his chair like an old hound
who hears the view-halloa. He waved his hand to the sofa, and our
palpitating visitor with his agitated companion sat side by side upon
it. Mr.\ Mortimer Tregennis was more self-contained than the clergyman,
but the twitching of his thin hands and the brightness of his dark
eyes showed that they shared a common emotion.

{}``Shall I speak or you?''\ he asked of the vicar.

{}``Well, as you seem to have made the discovery, whatever it may
be, and the vicar to have had it second-hand, perhaps you had better
do the speaking,''\ said Holmes.

I glanced at the hastily clad clergyman, with the formally dressed
lodger seated beside him, and was amused at the surprise which Holmes's
simple deduction had brought to their faces.

{}``Perhaps I had best say a few words first,''\ said the vicar,
{}``and then you can judge if you will listen to the details from
Mr.\ Tregennis, or whether we should not hasten at once to the scene
of this mysterious affair. I may explain, then, that our friend here
spent last evening in the company of his two brothers, Owen and George,
and of his sister Brenda, at their house of Tredannick Wartha, which
is near the old stone cross upon the moor. He left them shortly after
ten o'clock, playing cards round the dining-room table, in excellent
health and spirits. This morning, being an early riser, he walked
in that direction before breakfast and was overtaken by the carriage
of Dr. Richards, who explained that he had just been sent for on a
most urgent call to Tredannick Wartha. Mr.\ Mortimer Tregennis naturally
went with him. When he arrived at Tredannick Wartha he found an extraordinary
state of things. His two brothers and his sister were seated round
the table exactly as he had left them, the cards still spread in front
of them and the candles burned down to their sockets. The sister lay
back stone-dead in her chair, while the two brothers sat on each side
of her laughing, shouting, and singing, the senses stricken clean
out of them. All three of them, the dead woman and the two demented
men, retained upon their faces an expression of the utmost horror\mdsh{---}a
convulsion of terror which was dreadful to look upon. There was no
sign of the presence of anyone in the house, except Mrs.\ Porter,
the old cook and housekeeper, who declared that she had slept deeply
and heard no sound during the night. Nothing had been stolen or disarranged,
and there is absolutely no explanation of what the horror can be which
has frightened a woman to death and two strong men out of their senses.
There is the situation, Mr.\ Holmes, in a nutshell, and if you can
help us to clear it up you will have done a great work.''

I had hoped that in some way I could coax my companion back into the
quiet which had been the object of our journey; but one glance at
his intense face and contracted eyebrows told me how vain was now
the expectation. He sat for some little time in silence, absorbed
in the strange drama which had broken in upon our peace.

{}``I will look into this matter,''\ he said at last. {}``On the
face of it, it would appear to be a case of a very exceptional nature.
Have you been there yourself, Mr.\ Roundhay?''

{}``No, Mr.\ Holmes. Mr.\ Tregennis brought back the account to
the vicarage, and I at once hurried over with him to consult you.''

{}``How far is it to the house where this singular tragedy occurred?''

{}``About a mile inland.''

{}``Then we shall walk over together. But before we start I must
ask you a few question, Mr.\ Mortimer Tregennis.''

The other had been silent all this time, but I had observed that his
more controlled excitement was even greater than the obtrusive emotion
of the clergyman. He sat with a pale, drawn face, his anxious gaze
fixed upon Holmes, and his thin hands clasped convulsively together.
His pale lips quivered as he listened to the dreadful experience which
had befallen his family, and his dark eyes seemed to reflect something
of the horror of the scene.

{}``Ask what you like, Mr.\ Holmes,''\ said he eagerly. {}``It
is a bad thing to speak of, but I will answer you the truth.''

{}``Tell me about last night.''

{}``Well, Mr.\ Holmes, I supped there, as the vicar has said, and
my elder brother George proposed a game of whist afterwards. We sat
down about nine o'clock. It was a quarter-past ten when I moved to
go. I left them all round the table, as merry as could be.''

{}``Who let you out?''

{}``Mrs.\ Porter had gone to bed, so I let myself out. I shut the
hall door behind me. The window of the room in which they sat was
closed, but the blind was not drawn down. There was no change in door
or window this morning, or any reason to think that any stranger had
been to the house. Yet there they sat, driven clean mad with terror,
and Brenda lying dead of fright, with her head hanging over the arm
of the chair. I'll never get the sight of that room out of my mind
so long as I live.''

{}``The facts, as you state them, are certainly most remarkable,''
said Holmes. {}``I take it that you have no theory yourself which
can in any way account for them?''

{}``It's devilish, Mr.\ Holmes, devilish!''\ cried Mortimer Tregennis.
{}``It is not of this world. Something has come into that room which
has dashed the light of reason from their minds. What human contrivance
could do that?''

{}``I fear,''\ said Holmes, {}``that if the matter is beyond humanity
it is certainly beyond me. Yet we must exhaust all natural explanations
before we fall back upon such a theory as this. As to yourself, Mr.\ Tregennis,
I take it you were divided in some way from your family, since they
lived together and you had rooms apart?''

{}``That is so, Mr.\ Holmes, though the matter is past and done
with. We were a family of tin-miners at Redruth, but we sold our venture
to a company, and so retired with enough to keep us. I won't deny
that there was some feeling about the division of the money and it
stood between us for a time, but it was all forgiven and forgotten,
and we were the best of friends together.''

{}``Looking back at the evening which you spent together, does anything
stand out in your memory as throwing any possible light upon the tragedy?
Think carefully, Mr.\ Tregennis, for any clue which can help me.''

{}``There is nothing at all, sir.''

{}``Your people were in their usual spirits?''

{}``Never better.''

{}``Were they nervous people? Did they ever show any apprehension
of coming danger?''

{}``Nothing of the kind.''

{}``You have nothing to add then, which could assist me?''

Mortimer Tregennis considered earnestly for a moment.

{}``There is one thing occurs to me,''\ said he at last. {}``As
we sat at the table my back was to the window, and my brother George,
he being my partner at cards, was facing it. I saw him once look hard
over my shoulder, so I turned round and looked also. The blind was
up and the window shut, but I could just make out the bushes on the
lawn, and it seemed to me for a moment that I saw something moving
among them. I couldn't even say if it was man or animal, but I just
thought there was something there. When I asked him what he was looking
at, he told me that he had the same feeling. That is all that I can
say.''

{}``Did you not investigate?''

{}``No; the matter passed as unimportant.''

{}``You left them, then, without any premonition of evil?''

{}``None at all.''

{}``I am not clear how you came to hear the news so early this morning.''

{}``I am an early riser and generally take a walk before breakfast.
This morning I had hardly started when the doctor in his carriage
overtook me. He told me that old Mrs.\ Porter had sent a boy down
with an urgent message. I sprang in beside him and we drove on. When
we got there we looked into that dreadful room. The candles and the
fire must have burned out hours before, and they had been sitting
there in the dark until dawn had broken. The doctor said Brenda must
have been dead at least six hours. There were no signs of violence.
She just lay across the arm of the chair with that look on her face.
George and Owen were singing snatches of songs and gibbering like
two great apes. Oh, it was awful to see! I couldn't stand it, and
the doctor was as white as a sheet. Indeed, he fell into a chair in
a sort of faint, and we nearly had him on our hands as well.''

{}``Remarkable\mdsh{---}most remarkable!''\ said Holmes, rising
and taking his hat. {}``I think, perhaps, we had better go down to
Tredannick Wartha without further delay. I confess that I have seldom
known a case which at first sight presented a more singular problem.''

Our proceedings of that first morning did little to advance the investigation.
It was marked, however, at the outset by an incident which left the
most sinister impression upon my mind. The approach to the spot at
which the tragedy occurred is down a narrow, winding, country lane.
While we made our way along it we heard the rattle of a carriage coming
towards us and stood aside to let it pass. %
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-devi-03.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{Those staring eyes and gnashing teeth
flashed past us like a dreadful vision.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
As it drove by us I caught a glimpse through the closed window of
a horribly contorted, grinning face glaring out at us. Those staring
eyes and gnashing teeth flashed past us like a dreadful vision.

{}``My brothers!''\ cried Mortimer Tregennis, white to his lips.
{}``They are taking them to Helston.''

We looked with horror after the black carriage, lumbering upon its
way. Then we turned our steps towards this ill-omened house in which
they had met their strange fate.

It was a large and bright dwelling, rather a villa than a cottage,
with a considerable garden which was already, in that Cornish air,
well filled with spring flowers. Towards this garden the window of
the sitting-room fronted, and from it, according to Mortimer Tregennis,
must have come that thing of evil which had by sheer horror in a single
instant blasted their minds. Holmes walked slowly and thoughtfully
among the flower-plots and along the path before we entered the porch.
So absorbed was he in his thoughts, I remember, that he stumbled over
the watering-pot, upset its contents, and deluged both our feet and
the garden path. Inside the house we were met by the elderly Cornish
housekeeper, Mrs.\ Porter, who, with the aid of a young girl, looked
after the wants of the family. She readily answered all Holmes's questions.
She had heard nothing in the night. Her employers had all been in
excellent spirits lately, and she had never known them more cheerful
and prosperous. She had fainted with horror upon entering the room
in the morning and seeing that dreadful company round the table. She
had, when she recovered, thrown open the window to let the morning
air in, and had run down to the lane, whence she sent a farm-lad for
the doctor. The lady was on her bed upstairs if we cared to see her.
It took four strong men to get the brothers into the asylum carriage.
She would not herself stay in the house another day and was starting
that very afternoon to rejoin her family at St.\ Ives.

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-devi-04.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{We ascended the stairs and viewed
the body.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
We ascended the stairs and viewed the body. Miss Brenda Tregennis
had been a very beautiful girl, though now verging upon middle age.
Her dark, clear-cut face was handsome, even in death, but there still
lingered upon it something of that convulsion of horror which had
been her last human emotion. From her bedroom we descended to the
sitting-room, where this strange tragedy had actually occurred. The
charred ashes of the overnight fire lay in the grate. On the table
were the four guttered and burned-out candles, with the cards scattered
over its surface. The chairs had been moved back against the walls,
but all else was as it had been the night before. Holmes paced with
light, swift steps about the room; he sat in the various chairs, drawing
them up and reconstructing their positions. He tested how much of
the garden was visible; he examined the floor, the ceiling, and the
fireplace; but never once did I see that sudden brightening of his
eyes and tightening of his lips which would have told me that he saw
some gleam of light in this utter darkness.

{}``Why a fire?''\ he asked once. {}``Had they always a fire in
this small room on a spring evening?''

Mortimer Tregennis explained that the night was cold and damp. For
that reason, after his arrival, the fire was lit. {}``What are you
going to do now, Mr.\ Holmes?''\ he asked.

My friend smiled and laid his hand upon my arm. {}``I think, Watson,
that I shall resume that course of tobacco-poisoning which you have
so often and so justly condemned,''\ said he. {}``With your permission,
gentlemen, we will now return to our cottage, for I am not aware that
any new factor is likely to come to our notice here. I will turn the
facts over in my mind, Mr, Tregennis, and should anything occur to
me I will certainly communicate with you and the vicar. In the meantime
I wish you both good-morning.''

It was not until long after we were back in Poldhu Cottage that Holmes
broke his complete and absorbed silence. He sat coiled in his armchair,
his haggard and ascetic face hardly visible amid the blue swirl of
his tobacco smoke, his black brows drawn down, his forehead contracted,
his eyes vacant and far away. Finally he laid down his pipe and sprang
to his feet.

{}``It won't do, Watson!''\ said he with a laugh. {}``Let us walk
along the cliffs together and search for flint arrows. We are more
likely to find them than clues to this problem. To let the brain work
without sufficient material is like racing an engine. It racks itself
to pieces. The sea air, sunshine, and patience, Watson\mdsh{---}all
else will come.

{}``Now, let us calmly define our position, Watson,''\ he continued
as we skirted the cliffs together. {}``Let us get a firm grip of
the very little which we \textit{do} know, so that when fresh facts
arise we may be ready to fit them into their places. I take it, in
the first place, that neither of us is prepared to admit diabolical
intrusions into the affairs of men. Let us begin by ruling that entirely
out of our minds. Very good. There remain three persons who have been
grievously stricken by some conscious or unconscious human agency.
That is firm ground. Now, when did this occur? Evidently, assuming
his narrative to be true, it was immediately after Mr.\ Mortimer
Tregennis had left the room. That is a very important point. The presumption
is that it was within a few minutes afterwards. The cards still lay
upon the table. It was already past their usual hour for bed. Yet
they had not changed their position or pushed back their chairs. I
repeat, then, that the occurrence was immediately after his departure,
and not later than eleven o'clock last night.

{}``Our next obvious step is to check, so far as we can, the movements
of Mortimer Tregennis after he left the room. In this there is no
difficulty, and they seem to be above suspicion. Knowing my methods
as you do, you were, of course, conscious of the somewhat clumsy water-pot
expedient by which I obtained a clearer impress of his foot than might
otherwise have been possible. The wet, sandy path took it admirably.
Last night was also wet, you will remember, and it was not difficult\mdsh{---}having
obtained a sample print\mdsh{---}to pick out his track among others
and to follow his movements. He appears to have walked away swiftly
in the direction of the vicarage.

{}``If, then, Mortimer Tregennis disappeared from the scene, and
yet some outside person affected the card-players, how can we reconstruct
that person, and how was such an impression of horror conveyed? Mrs.\ Porter
may be eliminated. She is evidently harmless. Is there any evidence
that someone crept up to the garden window and in some manner produced
so terrific an effect that he drove those who saw it out of their
senses? The only suggestion in this direction comes from Mortimer
Tregennis himself, who says that his brother spoke about some movement
in the garden. That is certainly remarkable, as the night was rainy,
cloudy, and dark. Anyone who had the design to alarm these people
would be compelled to place his very face against the glass before
he could be seen. There is a three-foot flower-border outside this
window, but no indication of a footmark. It is difficult to imagine,
then, how an outsider could have made so terrible an impression upon
the company, nor have we found any possible motive for so strange
and elaborate an attempt. You perceive our difficulties, Watson?''

{}``They are only too clear,''\ I answered with conviction.

{}``And yet, with a little more material, we may prove that they
are not insurmountable,''\ said Holmes. {}``I fancy that among
your extensive archives, Watson, you may find some which were nearly
as obscure. Meanwhile, we shall put the case aside until more accurate
data are available, and devote the rest of our morning to the pursuit
of neolithic man.''

I may have commented upon my friend's power of mental detachment,
but never have I wondered at it more than upon that spring morning
in Cornwall when for two hours he discoursed upon celts, arrowheads,
and shards, as lightly as if no sinister mystery were waiting for
his solution. It was not until we had returned in the afternoon to
our cottage that we found a visitor awaiting us, who soon brought
our minds back to the matter in hand. Neither of us needed to be told
who that visitor was. The huge body, the craggy and deeply seamed
face with the fierce eyes and hawk-like nose, the grizzled hair which
nearly brushed our cottage ceiling, the beard\mdsh{---}golden at
the fringes and white near the lips, save for the nicotine stain from
his perpetual cigar\mdsh{---}all these were as well known in London
as in Africa, and could only be associated with the tremendous personality
of Dr.\ Leon Sterndale, the great lion-hunter and explorer.

We had heard of his presence in the district and had once or twice
caught sight of his tall figure upon the moorland paths. He made no
advances to us, however, nor would we have dreamed of doing so to
him, as it was well known that it was his love of seclusion which
caused him to spend the greater part of the intervals between his
journeys in a small bungalow buried in the lonely wood of Beauchamp
Arriance. Here, amid his books and his maps, he lived an absolutely
lonely life, attending to his own simple wants and paying little apparent
heed to the affairs of his neighbours. It was a surprise to me, therefore,
to hear him asking Holmes in an eager voice whether he had made any
advance in his reconstruction of this mysterious episode. {}``The
county police are utterly at fault,''\ said he, {}``but perhaps
your wider experience has suggested some conceivable explanation.
My only claim to being taken into your confidence is that during my
many residences here I have come to know this family of Tregennis
very well\mdsh{---}indeed, upon my Cornish mother's side I could
call them cousins\mdsh{---}and their strange fate has naturally
been a great shock to me. I may tell you that I had got as far as
Plymouth upon my way to Africa, but the news reached me this morning,
and I came straight back again to help in the inquiry.''

Holmes raised his eyebrows.

{}``Did you lose your boat through it?''

{}``I will take the next.''

{}``Dear me!\ that is friendship indeed.''

{}``I tell you they were relatives.''

{}``Quite so\mdsh{---}cousins of your mother. Was your baggage
aboard the ship?''

{}``Some of it, but the main part at the hotel.''

{}``I see. But surely this event could not have found its way into
the Plymouth morning papers.''

{}``No, sir; I had a telegram.''

{}``Might I ask from whom?''

A shadow passed over the gaunt face of the explorer.

{}``You are very inquisitive, Mr.\ Holmes.''

{}``It is my business.''

With an effort Dr.\ Sterndale recovered his ruffled composure.

{}``I have no objection to telling you,''\ he said. {}``It was
Mr.\ Roundhay, the vicar, who sent me the telegram which recalled
me.''

{}``Thank you,''\ said Holmes. {}``I may say in answer to your
original question that I have not cleared my mind entirely on the
subject of this case, but that I have every hope of reaching some
conclusion. It would be premature to say more.''

{}``Perhaps you would not mind telling me if your suspicions point
in any particular direction?''

{}``No, I can hardly answer that.''

{}``Then I have wasted my time and need not prolong my visit.''
The famous doctor strode out of our cottage in considerable ill-humour,
and within five minutes Holmes had followed him. I saw him no more
until the evening, when he returned with a slow step and haggard face
which assured me that he had made no great progress with his investigation.
He glanced at a telegram which awaited him and threw it into the grate.

{}``From the Plymouth hotel, Watson,''\ he said. {}``I learned
the name of it from the vicar, and I wired to make certain that Dr.\ Leon
Sterndale's account was true. It appears that he did indeed spend
last night there, and that he has actually allowed some of his baggage
to go on to Africa, while he returned to be present at this investigation.
What do you make of that, Watson?''

{}``He is deeply interested.''

{}``Deeply interested\mdsh{---}yes. There is a thread here which
we have not yet grasped and which might lead us through the tangle.
Cheer up, Watson, for I am very sure that our material has not yet
all come to hand. When it does we may soon leave our difficulties
behind us.''

Little did I think how soon the words of Holmes would be realized,
or how strange and sinister would be that new development which opened
up an entirely fresh line of investigation. I was shaving at my window
in the morning when I heard the rattle of hoofs and, looking up, saw
a dog-cart coming at a gallop down the road. It pulled up at our door,
and our friend, the vicar, sprang from it and rushed up our garden
path. Holmes was already dressed, and we hastened down to meet him.

Our visitor was so excited that he could hardly articulate, but at
last in gasps and bursts his tragic story came out of him.

{}``We are devil-ridden, Mr.\ Holmes! My poor parish is devil-ridden!''\ he
cried. {}``Satan himself is loose in it! We are given over into his
hands!''\  He danced about in his agitation, a ludicrous object
if it were not for his ashy face and startled eyes. Finally he shot
out his terrible news.

{}``Mr.\ Mortimer Tregennis died during the night, and with exactly
the same symptoms as the rest of his family.''

Holmes sprang to his feet, all energy in an instant.

{}``Can you fit us both into your dog-cart?''

{}``Yes, I can.''

{}``Then, Watson, we will postpone our breakfast. Mr.\ Roundhay,
we are entirely at your disposal. Hurry\mdsh{---}hurry, before things
get disarranged.''

The lodger occupied two rooms at the vicarage, which were in an angle
by themselves, the one above the other. Below was a large sitting-room;
above, his bedroom. They looked out upon a croquet lawn which came
up to the windows. We had arrived before the doctor or the police,
so that everything was absolutely undisturbed. Let me describe exactly
the scene as we saw it upon that misty March morning. It has left
an impression which can never be effaced from my mind.

The atmosphere of the room was of a horrible and depressing stuffiness.
The servant had first entered had thrown up the window, or it would
have been even more intolerable. This might partly be due to the fact
that a lamp stood flaring and smoking on the centre table. %
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-devi-05.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{Beside it sat the dead man, leaning
back in his chair.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
Beside it sat the dead man, leaning back in his chair, his thin beard
projecting, his spectacles pushed up on to his forehead, and his lean
dark face turned towards the window and twisted into the same distortion
of terror which had marked the features of his dead sister. His limbs
were convulsed and his fingers contorted as though he had died in
a very paroxysm of fear. He was fully clothed, though there were signs
that his dressing had been done in a hurry. We had already learned
that his bed had been slept in, and that the tragic end had come to
him in the early morning.

One realized the red-hot energy which underlay Holmes's phlegmatic
exterior when one saw the sudden change which came over him from the
moment that he entered the fatal apartment. In an instant he was tense
and alert, his eyes shining, his face set, his limbs quivering with
eager activity. He was out on the lawn, in through the window, round
the room, and up into the bedroom, for all the world like a dashing
foxhound drawing a cover. In the bedroom he made a rapid cast around
and ended by throwing open the window, which appeared to give him
some fresh cause for excitement, for he leaned out of it with loud
ejaculations of interest and delight. Then he rushed down the stair,
out through the open window, threw himself upon his face on the lawn,
sprang up and into the room once more, all with the energy of the
hunter who is at the very heels of his quarry. The lamp, which was
an ordinary standard, he examined with minute care, making certain
measurements upon its bowl. He carefully scrutinized with his lens
the talc shield which covered the top of the chimney and scraped off
some ashes which adhered to its upper surface, putting some of them
into an envelope, which he placed in his pocketbook. Finally, just
as the doctor and the official police put in an appearance, he beckoned
to the vicar and we all three went out upon the lawn.

{}``I am glad to say that my investigation has not been entirely
barren,''\ he remarked. {}``I cannot remain to discuss the matter
with the police, but I should be exceedingly obliged, Mr.\ Roundhay,
if you would give the inspector my compliments and direct his attention
to the bedroom window and to the sitting-room lamp. Each is suggestive,
and together they are almost conclusive. If the police would desire
further information I shall be happy to see any of them at the cottage.
And now, Watson, I think that, perhaps, we shall be better employed
elsewhere.''

It may be that the police resented the intrusion of an amateur, or
that they imagined themselves to be upon some hopeful line of investigation;
but it is certain that we heard nothing from them for the next two
days. During this time Holmes spent some of his time smoking and dreaming
in the cottage; but a greater portion in country walks which he undertook
alone, returning after many hours without remark as to where he had
been. One experiment served to show me the line of his investigation.
He had bought a lamp which was the duplicate of the one which had
burned in the room of Mortimer Tregennis on the morning of the tragedy.
This he filled with the same oil as that used at the vicarage, and
he carefully timed the period which it would take to be exhausted.
Another experiment which he made was of a more unpleasant nature,
and one which I am not likely ever to forget.

{}``You will remember, Watson,''\ he remarked one afternoon, {}``that
there is a single common point of resemblance in the varying reports
which have reached us. This concerns the effect of the atmosphere
of the room in each case upon those who had first entered it. You
will recollect that Mortimer Tregennis, in describing the episode
of his last visit to his brother's house, remarked that the doctor
on entering the room fell into a chair? You had forgotten? Well I
can answer for it that it was so. Now, you will remember also that
Mrs.\ Porter, the housekeeper, told us that she herself fainted upon
entering the room and had afterwards opened the window. In the second
case\mdsh{---}that of Mortimer Tregennis himself\mdsh{---}you
cannot have forgotten the horrible stuffiness of the room when we
arrived, though the servant had thrown open the window. That servant,
I found upon inquiry, was so ill that she had gone to her bed. You
will admit, Watson, that these facts are very suggestive. In each
case there is evidence of a poisonous atmosphere. In each case, also,
there is combustion going on in the room\mdsh{---}in the one case
a fire, in the other a lamp. The fire was needed, but the lamp was
lit\mdsh{---}as a comparison of the oil consumed will show\mdsh{---}long
after it was broad daylight. Why? Surely because there is some connection
between three things\mdsh{---}the burning, the stuffy atmosphere,
and, finally, the madness or death of those unfortunate people. That
is clear, is it not?''

{}``It would appear so.''

{}``At least we may accept it as a working hypothesis. We will suppose,
then, that something was burned in each case which produced an atmosphere
causing strange toxic effects. Very good. In the first instance\mdsh{---}that
of the Tregennis family\mdsh{---}this substance was placed in the
fire. Now the window was shut, but the fire would naturally carry
fumes to some extent up the chimney. Hence one would expect the effects
of the poison to be less than in the second case, where there was
less escape for the vapour. The result seems to indicate that it was
so, since in the first case only the woman, who had presumably the
more sensitive organism, was killed, the others exhibiting that temporary
or permanent lunacy which is evidently the first effect of the drug.
In the second case the result was complete. The facts, therefore,
seem to bear out the theory of a poison which worked by combustion.

{}``With this train of reasoning in my head I naturally looked about
in Mortimer Tregennis's room to find some remains of this substance.
The obvious place to look was the talc shelf or smoke-guard of the
lamp. There, sure enough, I perceived a number of flaky ashes, and
round the edges a fringe of brownish powder, which had not yet been
consumed. Half of this I took, as you saw, and I placed it in an envelope.''

{}``Why half, Holmes?''

{}``It is not for me, my dear Watson, to stand in the way of the
official police force. I leave them all the evidence which I found.
The poison still remained upon the talc had they the wit to find it.
Now, Watson, we will light our lamp; we will, however, take the precaution
to open our window to avoid the premature decease of two deserving
members of society, and you will seat yourself near that open window
in an armchair unless, like a sensible man, you determine to have
nothing to do with the affair. Oh, you will see it out, will you?
I thought I knew my Watson. This chair I will place opposite yours,
so that we may be the same distance from the poison and face to face.
The door we will leave ajar. Each is now in a position to watch the
other and to bring the experiment to an end should the symptoms seem
alarming. Is that all clear? Well, then, I take our powder\mdsh{---}or
what remains of it\mdsh{---}from the envelope, and I lay it above
the burning lamp. So! Now, Watson, let us sit down and await developments.''

They were not long in coming. I had hardly settled in my chair before
I was conscious of a thick, musky odour, subtle and nauseous. At the
very first whiff of it my brain and my imagination were beyond all
control. A thick, black cloud swirled before my eyes, and my mind
told me that in this cloud, unseen as yet, but about to spring out
upon my appalled senses, lurked all that was vaguely horrible, all
that was monstrous and inconceivably wicked in the universe. Vague
shapes swirled and swam amid the dark cloud-bank, each a menace and
a warning of something coming, the advent of some unspeakable dweller
upon the threshold, whose very shadow would blast my soul. A freezing
horror took possession of me. I felt that my hair was rising, that
my eyes were protruding, that my mouth was opened, and my tongue like
leather. The turmoil within my brain was such that something must
surely snap. I tried to scream and was vaguely aware of some hoarse
croak which was my own voice, but distant and detached from myself.
At the same moment, in some effort of escape, I broke through that
cloud of despair and had a glimpse of Holmes's face, white, rigid,
and drawn with horror\mdsh{---}the very look which I had seen upon
the features of the dead. It was that vision which gave me an instant
of sanity and of strength. %
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-devi-06.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{Together we lurched through the door.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
I dashed from my chair, threw my arms round Holmes, and together we
lurched through the door, and an instant afterwards had thrown ourselves
down upon the grass plot and were lying side by side, conscious only
of the glorious sunshine which was bursting its way through the hellish
cloud of terror which had girt us in. Slowly it rose from our souls
like the mists from a landscape until peace and reason had returned,
and we were sitting upon the grass, wiping our clammy foreheads, and
looking with apprehension at each other to mark the last traces of
that terrific experience which we had undergone.

{}``Upon my word, Watson!''\ said Holmes at last with an unsteady
voice, {}``I owe you both my thanks and an apology. It was an unjustifiable
experiment even for one's self, and doubly so for a friend. I am really
very sorry.''

{}``You know,''\ I answered with some emotion, for I have never
seen so much of Holmes's heart before, {}``that it is my greatest
joy and privilege to help you.''

He relapsed at once into the half-humorous, half-cynical vein which
was his habitual attitude to those about him. {}``It would be superfluous
to drive us mad, my dear Watson,''\ said he. {}``A candid observer
would certainly declare that we were so already before we embarked
upon so wild an experiment. I confess that I never imagined that the
effect could be so sudden and so severe.'' He dashed into the cottage,
and, reappearing with the burning lamp held at full arm's length,
he threw it among a bank of brambles. {}``We must give the room a
little time to clear. I take it, Watson, that you have no longer a
shadow of a doubt as to how these tragedies were produced?''

{}``None whatever.''

{}``But the cause remains as obscure as before. Come into the arbour
here and let us discuss it together. That villainous stuff seems still
to linger round my throat. I think we must admit that all the evidence
points to this man, Mortimer Tregennis, having been the criminal in
the first tragedy, though he was the victim in the second one. We
must remember, in the first place, that there is some story of a family
quarrel, followed by a reconciliation. How bitter that quarrel may
have been, or how hollow the reconciliation we cannot tell. When I
think of Mortimer Tregennis, with the foxy face and the small shrewd,
beady eyes behind the spectacles, he is not a man whom I should judge
to be of a particularly forgiving disposition. Well, in the next place,
you will remember that this idea of someone moving in the garden,
which took our attention for a moment from the real cause of the tragedy,
emanated from him. He had a motive in misleading us. Finally, if he
did not throw the substance into the fire at the moment of leaving
the room, who did do so? The affair happened immediately after his
departure. Had anyone else come in, the family would certainly have
risen from the table. Besides, in peaceful Cornwall, visitors did
not arrive after ten o'clock at night. We may take it, then, that
all the evidence points to Mortimer Tregennis as the culprit.''

{}``Then his own death was suicide!''

{}``Well, Watson, it is on the face of it a not impossible supposition.
The man who had the guilt upon his soul of having brought such a fate
upon his own family might well be driven by remorse to inflict it
upon himself. There are, however, some cogent reasons against it.
Fortunately, there is one man in England who knows all about it, and
I have made arrangements by which we shall hear the facts this afternoon
from his own lips. Ah!\ he is a little before his time. Perhaps you
would kindly step this way, Dr.\ Leon Sterndale. We have been conducing
a chemical experiment indoors which has left our little room hardly
fit for the reception of so distinguished a visitor.''

I had heard the click of the garden gate, and now the majestic figure
of the great African explorer appeared upon the path. He turned in
some surprise towards the rustic arbour in which we sat.

{}``You sent for me, Mr.\ Holmes. I had your note about an hour
ago, and I have come, though I really do not know why I should obey
your summons.''

{}``Perhaps we can clear the point up before we separate,''\ said
Holmes. {}``Meanwhile, I am much obliged to you for your courteous
acquiescence. You will excuse this informal reception in the open
air, but my friend Watson and I have nearly furnished an additional
chapter to what the papers call the Cornish Horror, and we prefer
a clear atmosphere for the present. Perhaps, since the matters which
we have to discuss will affect you personally in a very intimate fashion,
it is as well that we should talk where there can be no eavesdropping.''

The explorer took his cigar from his lips and gazed sternly at my
companion.

{}``I am at a loss to know, sir,''\ he said, {}``what you can
have to speak about which affects me personally in a very intimate
fashion.''

{}``The killing of Mortimer Tregennis,''\ said Holmes.

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics{lstbwetc-devi-07.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{He sprang forward with clenched hands
towards my companion.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
For a moment I wished that I were armed. Sterndale's fierce face turned
to a dusky red, his eyes glared, and the knotted, passionate veins
started out in his forehead, while he sprang forward with clenched
hands towards my companion. Then he stopped, and with a violent effort
he resumed a cold, rigid calmness, which was, perhaps, more suggestive
of danger than his hot-headed outburst.

{}``I have lived so long among savages and beyond the law,''\ said
he, {}``that I have got into the way of being a law to myself. You
would do well, Mr.\ Holmes, not to forget it, for I have no desire
to do you an injury.''

{}``Nor have I any desire to do you an injury, Dr.\ Sterndale. Surely
the clearest proof of it is that, knowing what I know, I have sent
for you and not for the police.''

Sterndale sat down with a gasp, overawed for, perhaps, the first time
in his adventurous life. There was a calm assurance of power in Holmes's
manner which could not be withstood. Our visitor stammered for a moment,
his great hands opening and shutting in his agitation.

{}``What do you mean?''\ he asked at last. {}``If this is bluff
upon your part, Mr.\ Holmes, you have chosen a bad man for your experiment.
Let us have no more beating about the bush. What \textit{do} you mean?''

{}``I will tell you,''\ said Holmes, {}``and the reason why I
tell you is that I hope frankness may beget frankness. What my next
step may be will depend entirely upon the nature of your own defence.''

{}``My defence?''

{}``Yes, sir.''

{}``My defence against what?''

{}``Against the charge of killing Mortimer Tregennis.''

Sterndale mopped his forehead with his handkerchief. {}``Upon my
word, you are getting on,''\ said he. {}``Do all your successes
depend upon this prodigious power of bluff?''

{}``The bluff,''\ said Holmes sternly, {}``is upon your side,
Dr.\ Leon Sterndale, and not upon mine. As a proof I will tell you
some of the facts upon which my conclusions are based. Of your return
from Plymouth, allowing much of your property to go on to Africa,
I will say nothing save that it first informed me that you were one
of the factors which had to be taken into account in reconstructing
this drama\mbox{---}''

{}``I came back\mdsh{---}''

{}``I have heard your reasons and regard them as unconvincing and
inadequate. We will pass that. You came down here to ask me whom I
suspected. I refused to answer you. You then went to the vicarage,
waited outside it for some time, and finally returned to your cottage.''

{}``How do you know that?''

{}``I followed you.''

{}``I saw no one.''

{}``That is what you may expect to see when I follow you. You spent
a restless night at your cottage, and you formed certain plans, which
in the early morning you proceeded to put into execution. Leaving
your door just as day was breaking, you filled your pocket with some
reddish gravel that was lying heaped beside your gate.''

Sterndale gave a violent start and looked at Holmes in amazement.

{}``You then walked swiftly for the mile which separated you from
the vicarage. You were wearing, I may remark, the same pair of ribbed
tennis shoes which are at the present moment upon your feet. At the
vicarage you passed through the orchard and the side hedge, coming
out under the window of the lodger Tregennis. It was now daylight,
but the household was not yet stirring. You drew some of the gravel
from your pocket, and you threw it up at the window above you.''

Sterndale sprang to his feet.

{}``I believe that you are the devil himself!''\ he cried.

Holmes smiled at the compliment. {}``It took two, or possibly three,
handfuls before the lodger came to the window. You beckoned him to
come down. He dressed hurriedly and descended to his sitting-room.
You entered by the window. There was an interview\mdsh{---}a short
one\mdsh{---}during which you walked up and down the room. Then
you passed out and closed the window, standing on the lawn outside
smoking a cigar and watching what occurred. Finally, after the death
of Tregennis, you withdrew as you had come. Now, Dr.\ Sterndale,
how do you justify such conduct, and what were the motives for your
actions? If you prevaricate or trifle with me, I give you my assurance
that the matter will pass out of my hands forever.''

Our visitor's face had turned ashen gray as he listened to the words
of his accuser. Now he sat for some time in thought with his face
sunk in his hands. Then with a sudden impulsive gesture he plucked
a photograph from his breast-pocket and threw it on the rustic table
before us.

{}``That is why I have done it,''\ said he.

It showed the bust and face of a very beautiful woman. Holmes stooped
over it.

{}``Brenda Tregennis,''\ said he.

{}``Yes, Brenda Tregennis,''\ repeated our visitor. {}``For years
I have loved her. For years she has loved me. There is the secret
of that Cornish seclusion which people have marvelled at. It has brought
me close to the one thing on earth that was dear to me. I could not
marry her, for I have a wife who has left me for years and yet whom,
by the deplorable laws of England, I could not divorce. For years
Brenda waited. For years I waited. And this is what we have waited
for.'' A terrible sob shook his great frame, and he clutched his
throat under his brindled beard. Then with an effort he mastered himself
and spoke on:\ 

{}``The vicar knew. He was in our confidence. He would tell you that
she was an angel upon earth. That was why he telegraphed to me and
I returned. What was my baggage or Africa to me when I learned that
such a fate had come upon my darling? There you have the missing clue
to my action, Mr.\ Holmes.''

{}``Proceed,''\ said my friend.

Dr.\ Sterndale drew from his pocket a paper packet and laid it upon
the table. On the outside was written {}``\textit{Radix} \textit{pedis}
\textit{diaboli}'' with a red poison label beneath it. He pushed
it towards me. {}``I understand that you are a doctor, sir. Have
you ever heard of this preparation?''

{}``Devil's-foot root! No, I have never heard of it.''

{}``It is no reflection upon your professional knowledge,''\ said
he, {}``for I believe that, save for one sample in a laboratory at
Buda, there is no other specimen in Europe. It has not yet found its
way either into the pharmacop\oe{}ia or into the literature of toxicology.
The root is shaped like a foot, half human, half goatlike; hence the
fanciful name given by a botanical missionary. It is used as an ordeal
poison by the medicine-men in certain districts of West Africa and
is kept as a secret among them. This particular specimen I obtained
under very extraordinary circumstances in the Ubangi country.'' He
opened the paper as he spoke and disclosed a heap of reddish-brown,
snuff-like powder.

{}``Well, sir?''\ asked Holmes sternly.

{}``I am about to tell you, Mr.\ Holmes, all that actually occurred,
for you already know so much that it is clearly to my interest that
you should know all. I have already explained the relationship in
which I stood to the Tregennis family. For the sake of the sister
I was friendly with the brothers. There was a family quarrel about
money which estranged this man Mortimer, but it was supposed to be
made up, and I afterwards met him as I did the others. He was a sly,
subtle, scheming man, and several things arose which gave me a suspicion
of him, but I had no cause for any positive quarrel.

{}``One day, only a couple of weeks ago, he came down to my cottage
and I showed him some of my African curiosities. Among other things
I exhibited this powder, and I told him of its strange properties,
how it stimulates those brain centres which control the emotion of
fear, and how either madness or death is the fate of the unhappy native
who is subjected to the ordeal by the priest of his tribe. I told
him also how powerless European science would be to detect it. How
he took it I cannot say, for I never left the room, but there is no
doubt that it was then, while I was opening cabinets and stooping
to boxes, that he managed to abstract some of the devil's-foot root.
I well remember how he plied me with questions as to the amount and
the time that was needed for its effect, but I little dreamed that
he could have a personal reason for asking.

{}``I thought no more of the matter until the vicar's telegram reached
me at Plymouth. This villain had thought that I would be at sea before
the news could reach me, and that I should be lost for years in Africa.
But I returned at once. Of course, I could not listen to the details
without feeling assured that my poison had been used. I came round
to see you on the chance that some other explanation had suggested
itself to you. But there could be none. I was convinced that Mortimer
Tregennis was the murderer; that for the sake of money, and with the
idea, perhaps, that if the other members of his family were all insane
he would be the sole guardian of their joint property, he had used
the devil's-foot powder upon them, driven two of them out of their
senses, and killed his sister Brenda, the one human being whom I have
ever loved or who has ever loved me. There was his crime; what was
to be his punishment?

{}``Should I appeal to the law? Where were my proofs? I knew that
the facts were true, but could I help to make a jury of countrymen
believe so fantastic a story? I might or I might not. But I could
not afford to fail. My soul cried out for revenge. I have said to
you once before, Mr.\ Holmes, that I have spent much of my life outside
the law, and that I have come at last to be a law to myself. So it
was even now. I determined that the fate which he had given to others
should be shared by himself. Either that or I would do justice upon
him with my own hand. In all England there can be no man who sets
less value upon his own life than I do at the present moment.

{}``Now I have told you all. You have yourself supplied the rest.
I did, as you say, after a restless night, set off early from my cottage.
I foresaw the difficulty of arousing him, so I gathered some gravel
from the pile which you have mentioned, and I used it to throw up
to his window. He came down and admitted me through the window of
the sitting-room. I laid his offence before him. I told him that I
had come both as judge and executioner. The wretch sank into a chair,
paralyzed at the sight of my revolver. I lit the lamp, put the powder
above it, and stood outside the window, ready to carry out my threat
to shoot him should he try to leave the room. In five minutes he died.
My God!\ how he died! But my heart was flint, for he endured nothing
which my innocent darling had not felt before him. There is my story,
Mr.\ Holmes. Perhaps, if you loved a woman, you would have done as
much yourself. At any rate, I am in your hands. You can take what
steps you like. As I have already said, there is no man living who
can fear death less than I do.''

Holmes sat for some little time in silence.

{}``What were your plans?''\ he asked at last.

{}``I had intended to bury myself in central Africa. My work there
is but half finished.''

{}``Go and do the other half,''\ said Holmes. {}``I, at least,
am not prepared to prevent you.''

Dr.\ Sterndale raised his giant figure, bowed gravely, and walked
from the arbour. Holmes lit his pipe and handed me his pouch.

{}``Some fumes which are not poisonous would be a welcome change,''
said he. {}``I think you must agree, Watson, that it is not a case
in which we are called upon to interfere. Our investigation has been
independent, and our action shall be so also. You would not denounce
the man?''

{}``Certainly not,''\ I answered.

{}``I have never loved, Watson, but if I did and if the woman I loved
had met such an end, I might act even as our lawless lion-hunter has
done. Who knows? Well, Watson, I will not offend your intelligence
by explaining what is obvious. The gravel upon the window-sill was,
of course, the starting-point of my research. It was unlike anything
in the vicarage garden. Only when my attention had been drawn to Dr.\ Sterndale
and his cottage did I find its counterpart. The lamp shining in broad
daylight and the remains of powder upon the shield were successive
links in a fairly obvious chain. And now, my dear Watson, I think
we may dismiss the matter from our mind and go back with a clear conscience
to the study of those Chaldean roots which are surely to be traced
in the Cornish branch of the great Celtic speech.''


\chapter*{\raggedright His Last Bow: An Epilogue of Sherlock Holmes\protect \\
{\large Illustrations by Alfred Gilbert}}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{His Last Bow: An Epilogue\\
of Sherlock Holmes}

\markboth{His Last Bow}{An Epilogue of Sherlock Holmes}

It was nine o'clock at night upon the second of August\mdsh{---}the
most terrible August in the history of the world. One might have thought
already that God's curse hung heavy over a degenerate world, for there
was an awesome hush and a feeling of vague expectancy in the sultry
and stagnant air. The sun had long set, but one blood-red gash like
an open wound lay low in the distant west. Above, the stars were shining
brightly, and below, the lights of the shipping glimmered in the bay.
The two famous Germans stood beside the stone parapet of the garden
walk, with the long, low, heavily gabled house behind them, and they
looked down upon the broad sweep of the beach at the foot of the great
chalk cliff in which Von Bork, like some wandering eagle, had perched
himself four years before. They stood with their heads close together,
talking in low, confidential tones. From below the two glowing ends
of their cigars might have been the smouldering eyes of some malignant
fiend looking down in the darkness.

A remarkable man this Von Bork\mdsh{---}a man who could hardly be
matched among all the devoted agents of the Kaiser. It was his talents
which had first recommended him for the English mission, the most
important mission of all, but since he had taken it over those talents
had become more and more manifest to the half-dozen people in the
world who were really in touch with the truth. One of these was his
present companion, Baron Von Herling, the chief secretary of the legation,
whose huge 100-horse-power Benz car was blocking the country lane
as it waited to waft its owner back to London.

{}``So far as I can judge the trend of events, you will probably
be back in Berlin within the week,''\ the secretary was saying.
{}``When you get there, my dear Von Bork, I think you will be surprised
at the welcome you will receive. I happen to know what is thought
in the highest quarters of your work in this country.'' He was a
huge man, the secretary, deep, broad, and tall, with a slow, heavy
fashion of speech which had been his main asset in his political career.

Von Bork laughed.

{}``They are not very hard to deceive,''\ he remarked. {}``A more
docile, simple folk could not be imagined.''

{}``I don't know about that,''\ said the other thoughtfully. {}``They
have strange limits and one must learn to observe them. It is that
surface simplicity of theirs which makes a trap for the stranger.
One's first impression is that they are entirely soft. Then one comes
suddenly upon something very hard, and you know that you have reached
the limit and must adapt yourself to the fact. They have, for example,
their insular conventions which simply \textit{must} be observed.''

{}``Meaning `good form'\ and that sort of thing?''\ Von Bork sighed
as one who had suffered much.

{}``Meaning British prejudice in all its queer manifestations. As
an example I may quote one of my own worst blunders\mdsh{---}I can
afford to talk of my blunders, for you know my work well enough to
be aware of my successes. It was on my first arrival. I was invited
to a week-end gathering at the country house of a cabinet minister.
The conversation was amazingly indiscreet.''

Von Bork nodded. {}``I've been there,''\ said he dryly.

{}``Exactly. Well, I naturally sent a r\'{e}sum\'{e} of the information
to Berlin. Unfortunately our good chancellor is a little heavy-handed
in these matters, and he transmitted a remark which showed that he
was aware of what had been said. This, of course, took the trail straight
up to me. You've no idea the harm that it did me. There was nothing
soft about our British hosts on that occasion, I can assure you. I
was two years living it down. Now you, with this sporting pose of
yours\mdsh{---}''

{}``No, no, don't call it a pose. A pose is an artificial thing.
This is quite natural. I am a born sportsman. I enjoy it.''

{}``Well, that makes it the more effective. You yacht against them,
you hunt with them, you play polo, you match them in every game, your
four-in-hand takes the prize at Olympia. I have even heard that you
go the length of boxing with the young officers. What is the result?
Nobody takes you seriously. You are a `good old sport,'\ `quite a
decent fellow for a German,'\ a hard-drinking, night-club, knock-about-town,
devil-may-care young fellow. And all the time this quiet country house
of yours is the centre of half the mischief in England, and the sporting
squire the most astute secret-service man in Europe. Genius, my dear
Von Bork\mdsh{---}genius!''

{}``You flatter me, Baron. But certainly I may claim my four years
in this country have not been unproductive. I've never shown you my
little store. Would you mind stepping in for a moment?''

The door of the study opened straight on to the terrace. Von Bork
pushed it back, and, leading the way, he clicked the switch of the
electric light. He then closed the door behind the bulky form which
followed him and carefully adjusted the heavy curtain over the latticed
window. Only when all these precautions had been taken and tested
did he turn his sunburned aquiline face to his guest.

{}``Some of my papers have gone,''\ said he. {}``When my wife
and the household left yesterday for Flushing they took the less important
with them. I must, of course, claim the protection of the embassy
for the others.''

{}``Your name has already been filed as one of the personal suite.
There will be no difficulties for you or your baggage. Of course,
it is just possible that we may not have to go. England may leave
France to her fate. We are sure that there is no binding treaty between
them.''

{}``And Belgium?''

{}``Yes, and Belgium, too.''

Von Bork shook his head. {}``I don't see how that could be. There
is a definite treaty there. She could never recover from such a humiliation.''

{}``She would at least have peace for the moment.''

{}``But her honor?''

{}``Tut, my dear sir, we live in a utilitarian age. Honour is a medi\ae{}val
conception. Besides England is not ready. It is an inconceivable thing,
but even our special war tax of fifty million, which one would think
made our purpose as clear as if we had advertised it on the front
page of the \emph{Times}, has not roused these people from their slumbers.
Here and there one hears a question. It is my business to find an
answer. Here and there also there is an irritation. It is my business
to soothe it. But I can assure you that so far as the essentials go\mdsh{---}the
storage of munitions, the preparation for submarine attack, the arrangements
for making high explosives\mdsh{---}nothing is prepared. How, then,
can England come in, especially when we have stirred her up such a
devil's brew of Irish civil war, window-breaking Furies, and God knows
what to keep her thoughts at home.''

{}``She must think of her future.''

{}``Ah, that is another matter. I fancy that in the future we have
our own very definite plans about England, and that your information
will be very vital to us. It is to-day or to-morrow with Mr.\ John
Bull. If he prefers to-day we are perfectly ready. If it is to-morrow
we shall be more ready still. I should think they would be wiser to
fight with allies than without them, but that is their own affair.
This week is their week of destiny. But you were speaking of your
papers.'' He sat in the armchair with the light shining upon his
broad bald head, while he puffed sedately at his cigar.

The large oak-panelled, book-lined room had a curtain hung in the
further corner. When this was drawn it disclosed a large, brass-bound
safe. Von Bork detached a small key from his watch chain, and after
some considerable manipulation of the lock he swung open the heavy
door.

{}``Look!''\ said he, standing clear, with a wave of his hand.

The light shone vividly into the opened safe, and the secretary of
the embassy gazed with an absorbed interest at the rows of stuffed
pigeon-holes with which it was furnished. Each pigeon-hole had its
label, and his eyes as he glanced along them read a long series of
such titles as {}``\noun{Fords},'' {}``\noun{Harbour-defences},''
{}``\noun{Aeroplanes},'' {}``\noun{Ireland},'', {}``\noun{Egypt},''
{}``\noun{Portsmouth forts},'' {}``\noun{The Channel},'' {}``\noun{Rosythe},''
and a score of others. Each compartment was bristling with papers
and plans.

{}``Colossal!''\ said the secretary. Putting down his cigar he
softly clapped his fat hands.

{}``And all in four years, Baron. Not such a bad show for the hard-drinking,
hard-riding country squire. But the gem of my collection is coming
and there is the setting all ready for it.'' He pointed to a space
over which {}``\noun{Naval Signals}'' was printed.

{}``But you have a good dossier there already.''

{}``Out of date and waste paper. The Admiralty in some way got the
alarm and every code has been changed. It was a blow, Baron\mdsh{---}the
worst setback in my whole campaign. But thanks to my check-book and
the good Altamont all will be well to-night.''

The Baron looked at his watch and gave a guttural exclamation of disappointment.

{}``Well, I really can wait no longer. You can imagine that things
are moving at present in Carlton Terrace and that we have all to be
at our posts. I had hoped to be able to bring news of your great \emph{coup}.
Did Altamont name no hour?''

Von Bork pushed over a telegram.

\begin{quotation}
\noindent Will come without fail to-night and bring new sparking plugs.

\hspace{\stretch{1}}\noun{Altamont}.
\end{quotation}
{}

{}``Sparking plugs, eh?''

{}``You see he poses as a motor expert and I keep a full garage.
In our code everything likely to come up is named after some spare
part. If he talks of a radiator it is a battleship, of an oil pump
a cruiser, and so on. Sparking plugs are naval signals.''

{}``From Portsmouth at midday,''\ said the secretary, examining
the superscription. {}``By the way, what do you give him?''

{}``Five hundred pounds for this particular job. Of course he has
a salary as well.''

{}``The greedy rogue. They are useful, these traitors, but I grudge
them their blood money.''

{}``I grudge Altamont nothing. He is a wonderful worker. If I pay
him well, at least he delivers the goods, to use his own phrase. Besides
he is not a traitor. I assure you that our most pan-Germanic Junker
is a sucking dove in his feelings towards England as compared with
a real bitter Irish-American.''

{}``Oh, an Irish-American?''

{}``If you heard him talk you would not doubt it. Sometimes I assure
you I can hardly understand him. He seems to have declared war on
the King's English as well as on the English king. Must you really
go? He may be here any moment.''

{}``No. I'm sorry, but I have already overstayed my time. We shall
expect you early to-morrow, and when you get that signal book through
the little door on the Duke of York's steps you can put a triumphant
\emph{finis} to your record in England. What! Tokay!'' He indicated
a heavily sealed dust-covered bottle which stood with two high glasses
upon a salver.

{}``May I offer you a glass before your journey?''

{}``No, thanks. But it looks like revelry.''

{}``Altamont has a nice taste in wines, and he took a fancy to my
Tokay. He is a touchy fellow and needs humouring in small things.
I have to study him, I assure you.'' They had strolled out on to
the terrace again, and along it to the further end where at a touch
from the Baron's chauffeur the great car shivered and chuckled. {}``Those
are the lights of Harwich, I suppose,''\ said the secretary, pulling
on his dust coat. {}``How still and peaceful it all seems. There
may be other lights within the week, and the English coast a less
tranquil place! The heavens, too, may not be quite so peaceful if
all that the good Zeppelin promises us comes true. By the way, who
is that?''

Only one window showed a light behind them; in it there stood a lamp,
and beside it, seated at a table, was a dear old ruddy-faced woman
in a country cap. She was bending over her knitting and stopping occasionally
to stroke a large black cat upon a stool beside her.

{}``That is Martha, the only servant I have left.''

The secretary chuckled.

{}``She might almost personify Britannia,''\ said he, {}``with
her complete self-absorption and general air of comfortable somnolence.
Well, \textit{au} \emph{revoir}, Von Bork!''\  With a final wave
of his hand he sprang into the car, and a moment later the two golden
cones from the headlights shot through the darkness. The secretary
lay back in the cushions of the luxurious limousine, with his thoughts
so full of the impending European tragedy that he hardly observed
that as his car swung round the village street it nearly passed over
a little Ford coming in the opposite direction.

Von Bork walked slowly back to the study when the last gleams of the
motor lamps had faded into the distance. As he passed he observed
that his old housekeeper had put out her lamp and retired. It was
a new experience to him, the silence and darkness of his widespread
house, for his family and household had been a large one. It was a
relief to him, however, to think that they were all in safety and
that, but for that one old woman who had lingered in the kitchen,
he had the whole place to himself. There was a good deal of tidying
up to do inside his study and he set himself to do it until his keen,
handsome face was flushed with the heat of the burning papers. A leather
valise stood beside his table, and into this he began to pack very
neatly and systematically the precious contents of his safe. He had
hardly got started with the work, however, when his quick ears caught
the sounds of a distant car. Instantly he gave an exclamation of satisfaction,
strapped up the valise, shut the safe, locked it, and hurried out
on to the terrace. He was just in time to see the lights of a small
car come to a halt at the gate. A passenger sprang out of it and advanced
swiftly towards him, while the chauffeur, a heavily built, elderly
man with a gray moustache, settled down like one who resigns himself
to a long vigil.

{}``Well?''\ asked Von Bork eagerly, running forward to meet his
visitor.

For answer the man waved a small brown-paper parcel triumphantly above
his head.

{}``You can give me the glad hand to-night, mister,''\ he cried.
{}``I'm bringing home the bacon at last.''

{}``The signals?''

{}``Same as I said in my cable. Every last one of them, semaphore,
lamp code, Marconi\mdsh{---}a copy, mind you, not the original.
That was too dangerous. But it's the real goods, and you can lay to
that.'' He slapped the German upon the shoulder with a rough familiarity
from which the other winced.

{}``Come in,''\ he said. {}``I'm all alone in the house. I was
only waiting for this. Of course a copy is better than the original.
If an original were missing they would change the whole thing. You
think it's all safe about the copy?''

The Irish-American had entered the study and stretched his long limbs
from the armchair. He was a tall, gaunt man of sixty, with clear-cut
features and a small goatee beard which gave him a general resemblance
to the caricatures of Uncle Sam. A half-smoked, sodden cigar hung
from the corner of his mouth, and as he sat down he struck a match
and relit it. {}``Making ready for a move?''\ he remarked as he
looked round him. {}``Say, mister,''\ he added, as his eyes fell
upon the safe from which the curtain was now removed, {}``you don't
tell me you keep your papers in that?''

{}``Why not?''

{}``Gosh, in a wide-open contraption like that! And they reckon you
to be some spy. Why, a Yankee crook would be into that with a can-opener.
If I'd known that any letter of mine was goin'\ to lie loose in a
thing like that I'd have been a mug to write to you at all.''

{}``It would puzzle any crook to force that safe,''\ Von Bork answered.
{}``You won't cut that metal with any tool.''

{}``But the lock?''

{}``No, it's a double combination lock. You know what that is?''

{}``Search me,''\ said the American.

{}``Well, you need a word as well as a set of figures before you
can get the lock to work.'' He rose and showed a double-radiating
disc round the keyhole. {}``This outer one is for the letters, the
inner one for the figures.''

{}``Well, well, that's fine.''

{}``So it's not quite as simple as you thought. It was four years
ago that I had it made, and what do you think I chose for the word
and figures?''

{}``It's beyond me.''

{}``Well, I chose August for the word, and 1914 for the figures,
and here we are.''

The American's face showed his surprise and admiration.

{}``My, but that was smart! You had it down to a fine thing.''

{}``Yes, a few of us even then could have guessed the date. Here
it is, and I'm shutting down to-morrow morning.''

{}``Well, I guess you'll have to fix me up also. I'm not staying
is this \textit{\emph{gol}}-darned country all on my lonesome. In
a week or less, from what I see, John Bull will be on his hind legs
and fair ramping. I'd rather watch him from over the water.''

{}``But you're an American citizen?''

{}``Well, so was Jack James an American citizen, but he's doing time
in Portland all the same. It cuts no ice with a British copper to
tell him you're an American citizen. `It's British law and order over
here,'\ says he. By the way, mister, talking of Jack James, it seems
to me you don't do much to cover your men.''

{}``What do you mean?''\ Von Bork asked sharply.

{}``Well, you are their employer, ain't you? It's up to you to see
that they don't fall down. But they do fall down, and when did you
ever pick them up? There's James\mdsh{---}''

{}``It was James's own fault. You know that yourself. He was too
self-willed for the job.''

{}``James was a bonehead\mdsh{---}I give you that. Then there was
Hollis.''

{}``The man was mad.''

{}``Well, he went a bit woozy towards the end. It's enough to make
a man bug-house when he has to play a part from morning to night with
a hundred guys all ready to set the coppers wise to him. But now there
is Steiner\mdsh{---}''

Von Bork started violently, and his ruddy face turned a shade paler.

{}``What about Steiner?''

{}``Well, they've got him, that's all. They raided his store last
night, and he and his papers are all in Portsmouth jail. You'll go
off and he, poor devil, will have to stand the racket, and lucky if
he gets off with his life. That's why I want to get over the water
as soon as you do.''

Von Bork was a strong, self-contained man, but it was easy to see
that the news had shaken him.

{}``How could they have got on to Steiner?''\ he muttered. {}``That's
the worst blow yet.''

{}``Well, you nearly had a worse one, for I believe they are not
far off me.''

{}``You don't mean that!''

{}``Sure thing. My landlady down Fratton way had some inquiries,
and when I heard of it I guessed it was time for me to hustle. But
what I want to know, mister, is how the coppers know these things?
Steiner is the fifth man you've lost since I signed on with you, and
I know the name of the sixth if I don't get a move on. How do you
explain it, and ain't you ashamed to see your men go down like this?''

Von Bork flushed crimson.

{}``How dare you speak in such a way!''

{}``If I didn't dare things, mister, I wouldn't be in your service.
But I'll tell you straight what is in my mind. I've heard that with
you German politicians when an agent has done his work you are not
sorry to see him put away.''

Von Bork sprang to his feet.

{}``Do you dare to suggest that I have given away my own agents!''

{}``I don't stand for that, mister, but there's a stool pigeon or
a cross somewhere, and it's up to you to find out where it is. Anyhow
I am taking no more chances. It's me for little Holland, and the sooner
the better.''

Von Bork had mastered his anger.

{}``We have been allies too long to quarrel now at the very hour
of victory,''\ he said. {}``You've done splendid work and taken
risks, and I can't forget it. By all means go to Holland, and you
can get a boat from Rotterdam to New York. No other line will be safe
a week from now. I'll take that book and pack it with the rest.''

The American held the small parcel in his hand, but made no motion
to give it up.

{}``What about the dough?''\ he asked.

{}``The what?''

{}``The boodle. The reward. The \pounds{}500. The gunner turned
damned nasty at the last, and I had to square him with an extra hundred
dollars or it would have been nitsky for you and me. `Nothin'\ doin'!'\ says
he, and he meant it, too, but the last hundred did it. It's cost me
two hundred pound from first to last, so it isn't likely I'd give
it up without gettin'\ my wad.''

Von Bork smiled with some bitterness. {}``You don't seem to have
a very high opinion of my honour,''\ said he, {}``you want the
money before you give up the book.''

{}``Well, mister, it is a business proposition.''

{}``All right. Have your way.'' He sat down at the table and scribbled
a check, which he tore from the book, but he refrained from handing
it to his companion. {}``After all, since we are to be on such terms,
Mr.\ Altamont,''\ said he, {}``I don't see why I should trust
you any more than you trust me. Do you understand?''\ he added,
looking back over his shoulder at the American. {}``There's the check
upon the table. I claim the right to examine that parcel before you
pick the money up.''

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-last-01.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{He was gripped at the back of his
neck by a grasp of iron.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
The American passed it over without a word. Von Bork undid a winding
of string and two wrappers of paper. Then he sat gazing for a moment
in silent amazement at a small blue book which lay before him. Across
the cover was printed in golden letters \emph{Practical Handbook of
Bee Culture}. Only for one instant did the master spy glare at this
strangely irrelevant inscription. The next he was gripped at the back
of his neck by a grasp of iron, and a chloroformed sponge was held
in front of his writhing face.

\bigskip{}
{}``Another glass, Watson!''\ said Mr.\ Sherlock Holmes as he
extended the bottle of Imperial Tokay.

The thickset chauffeur, who had seated himself by the table, pushed
forward his glass with some eagerness.

{}``It is a good wine, Holmes.''

{}``A remarkable wine, Watson. Our friend upon the sofa has assured
me that it is from Franz Josef's special cellar at the Schoenbrunn
Palace. Might I trouble you to open the window, for chloroform vapour
does not help the palate.''

The safe was ajar, and Holmes standing in front of it was removing
dossier after dossier, swiftly examining each, and then packing it
neatly in Von Bork's valise. The German lay upon the sofa sleeping
stertorously with a strap round his upper arms and another round his
legs.

{}``We need not hurry ourselves, Watson. We are safe from interruption.
Would you mind touching the bell? There is no one in the house except
old Martha, who has played her part to admiration. I got her the situation
here when first I took the matter up. Ah, Martha, you will be glad
to hear that all is well.''

The pleasant old lady had appeared in the doorway. She curtseyed with
a smile to Mr.\ Holmes, but glanced with some apprehension at the
figure upon the sofa.

{}``It is all right, Martha. He has not been hurt at all.''

{}``I am glad of that, Mr.\ Holmes. According to his lights he has
been a kind master. He wanted me to go with his wife to Germany yesterday,
but that would hardly have suited your plans, would it, sir?''

{}``No, indeed, Martha. So long as you were here I was easy in my
mind. We waited some time for your signal to-night.''

{}``It was the secretary, sir.''

{}``I know. His car passed ours.''

{}``I thought he would never go. I knew that it would not suit your
plans, sir, to find him here.''

{}``No, indeed. Well, it only meant that we waited half an hour or
so until I saw your lamp go out and knew that the coast was clear.
You can report to me to-morrow in London, Martha, at Claridge's Hotel.''

{}``Very good, sir.''

{}``I suppose you have everything ready to leave.''

{}``Yes, sir. He posted seven letters to-day. I have the addresses
as usual.''

{}``Very good, Martha. I will look into them to-morrow. Good-night.
These papers,''\ he continued as the old lady vanished, {}``are
not of very great importance, for, of course, the information which
they represent has been sent off long ago to the German government.
These are the originals which could not safely be got out of the country.''

{}``Then they are of no use.''

{}``I should not go so far as to say that, Watson. They will at least
show our people what is known and what is not. I may say that a good
many of these papers have come through me, and I need not add are
thoroughly untrustworthy. It would brighten my declining years to
see a German cruiser navigating the Solent according to the mine-field
plans which I have furnished. But you, Watson''\mdsh{---}he stopped
his work and took his old friend by the shoulders\mdsh{---}{}``I've
hardly seen you in the light yet. How have the years used you? You
look the same blithe boy as ever.''

{}``I feel twenty years younger, Holmes. I have seldom felt so happy
as when I got your wire asking me to meet you at Harwich with the
car. But you, Holmes\mdsh{---}you have changed very little\mdsh{---}save
for that horrible goatee.''

{}``These are the sacrifices one makes for one's country, Watson,''
said Holmes, pulling at his little tuft. {}``To-morrow it will be
but a dreadful memory. With my hair cut and a few other superficial
changes I shall no doubt reappear at Claridge's to-morrow as I was
before this American stunt\mdsh{---}I beg your pardon, Watson, my
well of English seems to be permanently defiled\mdsh{---}before
this American job came my way.''

{}``But you have retired, Holmes. We heard of you as living the life
of a hermit among your bees and your books in a small farm upon the
South Downs.''

{}``Exactly, Watson. Here is the fruit of my leisured ease, the \emph{magnum
opus} of my latter years!''\  He picked up the volume from the table
and read out the whole title, \emph{Practical Handbook of Bee Culture,
with Some Observations upon the Segregation of the Queen}. {}``Alone
I did it. Behold the fruit of pensive nights and laborious days when
I watched the little working gangs as once I watched the criminal
world of London.''

{}``But how did you get to work again?''

{}``Ah, I have often marvelled at it myself. The Foreign Minister
alone I could have withstood, but when the Premier also deigned to
visit my humble roof\mdsh{---}! The fact is, Watson, that this gentleman
upon the sofa was a bit too good for our people. He was in a class
by himself. Things were going wrong, and no one could understand why
they were going wrong. Agents were suspected or even caught, but there
was evidence of some strong and secret central force. It was absolutely
necessary to expose it. Strong pressure was brought upon me to look
into the matter. It has cost me two years, Watson, but they have not
been devoid of excitement. When I say that I started my pilgrimage
at Chicago, graduated in an Irish secret society at Buffalo, gave
serious trouble to the constabulary at Skibbareen, and so eventually
caught the eye of a subordinate agent of Von Bork, who recommended
me as a likely man, you will realize that the matter was complex.
Since then I have been honoured by his confidence, which has not prevented
most of his plans going subtly wrong and five of his best agents being
in prison. I watched them, Watson, and I picked them as they ripened.
Well, sir, I hope that you are none the worse!''

The last remark was addressed to Von Bork himself, who after much
gasping and blinking had lain quietly listening to Holmes's statement.
He broke out now into a furious stream of German invective, his face
convulsed with passion. Holmes continued his swift investigation of
documents while his prisoner cursed and swore.

{}``Though unmusical, German is the most expressive of all languages,''\ he
observed when Von Bork had stopped from pure exhaustion. {}``Hullo!
Hullo!''\ he added as he looked hard at the corner of a tracing
before putting it in the box. {}``This should put another bird in
the cage. I had no idea that the paymaster was such a rascal, though
I have long had an eye upon him. Mister Von Bork, you have a great
deal to answer for.''

The prisoner had raised himself with some difficulty upon the sofa
and was staring with a strange mixture of amazement and hatred at
his captor.

{}``I shall get level with you, Altamont,''\ he said, speaking
with slow deliberation. {}``If it takes me all my life I shall get
level with you!''

{}``The old sweet song,''\ said Holmes. {}``How often have I heard
it in days gone by. It was a favorite ditty of the late lamented Professor
Moriarty. Colonel Sebastian Moran has also been known to warble it.
And yet I live and keep bees upon the South Downs.''

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-last-02.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{{}``Curse you, you double traitor!''\ cried
the German.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
{}``Curse you, you double traitor!''\ cried the German, straining
against his bonds and glaring murder from his furious eyes.

{}``No, no, it is not so bad as that,''\ said Holmes, smiling.
{}``As my speech surely shows you, Mr.\ Altamont of Chicago had
no existence in fact. I used him and he is gone.''

{}``Then who are you?''

{}``It is really immaterial who I am, but since the matter seems
to interest you, Mr.\ Von Bork, I may say that this is not my first
acquaintance with the members of your family. I have done a good deal
of business in Germany in the past and my name is probably familiar
to you.''

{}``I would wish to know it,''\ said the Prussian grimly.

{}``It was I who brought about the separation between Irene Adler
and the late King of Bohemia when your cousin Heinrich was the Imperial
Envoy. It was I also who saved from murder, by the Nihilist Klopman,
Count \textit{\emph{Von}} \textit{\emph{und}} \textit{\emph{Zu}} Grafenstein,
who was your mother's elder brother. It was I\mdsh{---}''

Von Bork sat up in amazement.

{}``There is only one man,''\ he cried.

{}``Exactly,''\ said Holmes.

Von Bork groaned and sank back on the sofa. {}``And most of that
information came through you,''\ he cried. {}``What is it worth?
What have I done? It is my ruin forever!''

{}``It is certainly a little untrustworthy,''\ said Holmes. {}``It
will require some checking and you have little time to check it. Your
admiral may find the new guns rather larger than he expects, and the
cruisers perhaps a trifle faster.''

Von Bork clutched at his own throat in despair.

{}``There are a good many other points of detail which will, no doubt,
come to light in good time. But you have one quality which is very
rare in a German, Mr.\ Von Bork: you are a sportsman and you will
bear me no ill-will when you realize that you, who have outwitted
so many other people, have at last been outwitted yourself. After
all, you have done your best for your country, and I have done my
best for mine, and what could be more natural? Besides,''\ he added,
not unkindly, as he laid his hand upon the shoulder of the prostrate
man, {}``it is better than to fall before some ignoble foe. These
papers are now ready, Watson. If you will help me with our prisoner,
I think that we may get started for London at once.''

%
\begin{figure}[htbp]
\noindent \begin{center}\includegraphics[%
  width=1\columnwidth]{lstbwetc-last-03.jpg}\end{center}

\noindent \begin{center}\noun{Finally, holding either arm, the two
friends walked him very slowly down the garden walk.}\end{center}
\end{figure}
It was no easy task to move Von Bork, for he was a strong and a desperate
man. Finally, holding either arm, the two friends walked him very
slowly down the garden walk which he had trod with such proud confidence
when he received the congratulations of the famous diplomatist only
a few hours before. After a short, final struggle he was hoisted,
still bound hand and foot, into the spare seat of the little car.
His precious valise was wedged in beside him.

{}``I trust that you are as comfortable as circumstances permit,''
said Holmes when the final arrangements were made. {}``Should I be
guilty of a liberty if I lit a cigar and placed it between your lips?''

But all amenities were wasted upon the angry German.

{}``I suppose you realize, Mr.\ Sherlock Holmes,''\ said he, {}``that
if your government bears you out in this treatment it becomes an act
of war.''

{}``What about your government and all this treatment?''\ said
Holmes, tapping the valise.

{}``You are a private individual. You have no warrant for my arrest.
The whole proceeding is absolutely illegal and outrageous.''

{}``Absolutely,''\ said Holmes.

{}``Kidnapping a German subject.''

{}``And stealing his private papers.''

{}``Well, you realize your position, you and your accomplice here.
If I were to shout for help as we pass through the village\mdsh{---}''

{}``My dear sir, if you did anything so foolish you would probably
enlarge the two limited titles of our village inns by giving us `The
Dangling Prussian'\ as a signpost. The Englishman is a patient creature,
but at present his temper is a little inflamed, and it would be as
well not to try him too far. No, Mr.\ Von Bork, you will go with
us in a quiet, sensible fashion to Scotland Yard, whence you can send
for your friend, Baron Von Herling, and see if even now you may not
fill that place which he has reserved for you in the ambassadorial
suite. As to you, Watson, you are joining us with your old service,
as I understand, so London won't be out of your way. Stand with me
here upon the terrace, for it may be the last quiet talk that we shall
ever have.''

The two friends chatted in intimate converse for a few minutes, recalling
once again the days of the past, while their prisoner vainly wriggled
to undo the bonds that held him. As they turned to the car Holmes
pointed back to the moonlit sea and shook a thoughtful head.

{}``There's an east wind coming, Watson.''

{}``I think not, Holmes. It is very warm.''

{}``Good old Watson! You are the one fixed point in a changing age.
There's an east wind coming all the same, such a wind as never blew
on England yet. It will be cold and bitter, Watson, and a good many
of us may wither before its blast. But it's God's own wind none the
less, and a cleaner, better, stronger land will lie in the sunshine
when the storm has cleared. Start her up, Watson, for it's time that
we were on our way. I have a check for five hundred pounds which should
be cashed early, for the drawer is quite capable of stopping it if
he can.''
\end{document}
