It was
late in the afternoon before
I woke, strengthened and refreshed.
Sherlock Holmes still sat exactly
as I had left him save that he
had laid aside his violin and
was deep in a book. He looked
across at me as I stirred, and
I noticed that his face was dark
and troubled.
"You have slept soundly," he
said. "I feared that our talk
would wake you."
"I heard nothing," I answered. "Have
you had fresh news, then?"
"Unfortunately,
no. I confess
that I am surprised and disap-
pointed. I expected something
definite by this time. Wiggins
has just been up to report. He
says that no trace can be found
of the launch. It is a provoking
check, for every hour is of importance."
"Can
I do anything?
I am perfectly
fresh now, and quite ready for
another night's outing."
"No;
we can do nothing.
We can only
wait. If we
go our-
selves the message might come
in our absence and delay be caused.
You can do what you will. but
I must remain on guard."
"Then
I shall run
over to Camberwell
and call upon Mrs. Cecil Forrester.
She asked me to, yesterday."
"On Mrs. Cecil Forrester?" asked
Holmes with the twinkle of a
smile in his eyes.
"Well,
of course on
Miss Morstan,
too. They were anxious to hear
what happened."
"I would not tell them too
much," said Holmes. "Women are
never to be entirely trusted
-- not the best of them."
I did not pause to argue over
this atrocious sentiment.
"I shall be back in an hour
or two," I remarked.
"All
right! Good
luck! But,
I say, if you
are crossing
the
river you may as well return
Toby, for I don't think it is
at all likely that we shall have
any use for him now."
I took our mongrel accordingly
and left him, together with a
half-sovereign, at the old naturalist's
in Pinchin Lane. At Camberwell
I found Miss Morstan a little
weary after her night's adventures
but very eager to hear the news.
Mrs. Forrester, too, was full
of curiosity. I told them all
that we had done, suppress- ing,
however, the more dreadful parts
of the tragedy. Thus although
I spoke of Mr. Sholto's death,
I said nothing of the exact manner
and method of it. With all my
omissions, however, there was
enough to startle and amaze them.
"It is a romance!" cried Mrs.
Forrester. "An injured lady,
half a million in treasure, a
black cannibal, and a wooden-legged
ruffian. They take the place
of the conventional dragon or
wicked earl."
"And two knight-errants to
the rescue," added Miss Morstan
with a bright glance at me.
"Why,
Mary, your
fortune depends
upon the issue of this search.
I don't think that you are nearly
excited enough. Just imagine
what it must be to be so rich
and to have the world at your
feet!"
It sent a little thrill of
joy to my heart to notice that
she showed no sign of elation
at the prospect. On the contrary,
she gave a toss of her proud
head, as though the matter were
one in which she took small interest.
"It is for Mr. Thaddeus Sholto
that I am anxious," she said. "Nothing
else is of any consequence; but
I think that he has behaved most
kindly and honourably throughout.
It is our duty to clear him of
this dreadful and unfounded charge."
It was evening before I left
Camberwell, and quite dark by
the time I reached home. My companion's
book and pipe lay by his chair,
but he had disappeared. I looked
about in the hope of seeing a
note, but there was none.
"I suppose that Mr. Sherlock
Holmes has gone out," I said
to Mrs. Hudson as she came up
to lower the blinds.
"No, sir. He has gone to his
room, sir. Do you know, sir," sinking
her voice into an impressive
whisper, "I am afraid for his
health."
"Why
so, Mrs. Hudson?"
"Well,
he's that strange,
sir. After
you was gone
he walked
and he walked, up and down, and
up and down, until I was weary
of the sound of his footstep.
Then I heard him talking to himself
and muttering, and every time
the bell rang out he came on
the stairhead, with 'What is
that, Mrs. Hudson?' And now he
has slammed off to his room,
but I can hear him walking away
the same as ever. I hope he's
not going to be ill, sir. I ventured
to say something to him about
cooling medicine, but he turned
on me, sir, with such a look
that I don't know how ever I
got out of the room."
"I don't think that you have
any cause to be uneasy, Mrs.
Hudson," I answered. "I have
seen him like this before. He
has some small matter upon his
mind which makes him restless."
I tried to speak lightly to
our worthy landlady, but I was
myself somewhat uneasy when through
the long night I still from time
to time heard the dull sound
of his tread, and knew how his
keen spirit was chafing against
this involuntary inaction.
At breakfast-time he looked
worn and haggard, with a little
fleck of feverish colour upon
either cheek.
"You are knocking yourself
up, old man," I remarked. "I
heard you marching about in the
night."
"No, I could not sleep," he
answered. "This infernal prob-
lem is consuming me. It is too
much to be balked by so petty
an obstacle, when all else had
been overcome. I know the men,
the launch, everything; and yet
I can get no news. I have set
other agencies at work and used
every means at my disposal. The
whole river has been searched
on either side, but there is
no news, nor has Mrs. Smith heard
of her husband. I shall come
to the conclusion soon that they
have scuttled the craft. But
there are objections to that."
"Or
that Mrs. Smith
has put us
on a wrong
scent."
"No,
I think that
may be dismissed.
I had inquiries made, and there
is a launch of that description."
"Could
it have gone
up the river?"
"I
have considered
that possibility,
too, and there is a search- party
who will work up as far as Richmond.
If no news comes to-day I shall
start off myself tomorrow and
go for the men rather than the
boat. But surely, surely, we
shall hear something."
We did not, however. Not a
word came to us either from Wiggins
or from the other agencies. There
were articles in most of the
papers upon the Norwood tragedy.
They all appeared to be rather
hostile to the unfortunate Thaddeus
Sholto. No fresh details were
to be found, however, in any
of them, save that an inquest
was to be held upon the following
day. I walked over to Camberwell
in the evening to report our
ill-success to the ladies, and
on my return I found Holmes dejected
and somewhat mo- rose. He would
hardly reply to my questions
and busied himself all the evening
in an abstruse chemical analysis
which involved much heating of
retorts and distilling of vapours,
ending at last in a smell which
fairly drove me out of the apartment.
Up to the small hours of the
morning I could hear the clinking
of his test-tubes which told
me that he was still engaged
in his mal- odorous experiment.
In the early dawn I woke with
a start and was surprised to
find him standing by my bedside,
clad in a rude sailor dress with
a peajacket and a coarse red
scarf round his neck.
"I am off down the river, Watson," said
he. "I have been turning it over
in my mind, and I can see only
one way out of it. It is worth
trying, at all events."
"Surely I can come with you,
then?" said I.
"No;
you can be
much more useful
if you will remain here as my
representative. I am loath to
go, for it is quite on the cards
that some message may come during
the day, though Wiggins was despondent
about it last night. I want you
to open all notes and telegrams,
and to act on your own judgment
if any news should come. Can
I rely upon you?"
"Most
certainly."
"I
am afraid that
you will not
be able to
wire to me,
for
I can hardly tell yet where I
may find myself. If I am in luck,
however, I may not be gone so
very long. I shall have news
of some sort or other before
I get back."
I had heard nothing of him
by breakfast time. On opening
the Standard, however, I found
that there was a fresh allusion
to the business.
With reference to the Upper
Norwood tragedy [it remarked]
we have reason to believe that
the matter promises to be
even more complex and mysterious
than was originally
supposed. Fresh evidence has
shown that it is quite impossi-
ble that Mr. Thaddeus Sholto
could have been in any way
concerned in the matter. He
and the housekeeper, Mrs.
Bernstone, were both released
yesterday evening. It is be-
lieved, however, that the police
have a clue as to the real
culprits, and that it is being
prosecuted by Mr. Athelney
Jones, of Scotland Yard, with
all his well-known energy
and sagacity. Further arrests
may be expected at any
moment.
"That is satisfactory so far
as it goes," thought I. "Friend
Sholto is safe, at any rate.
I wonder what the fresh clue
may be though it seems to be
a stereotyped form whenever the
police have made a blunder."
I tossed the paper down upon
the table, but at that moment
my eye caught an advertisement
in the agony column. It ran in
this way:
LOST -- Whereas Mordecai Smith,
boatman, and his son Jim
left Smith's Wharf at or about
three o'clock last Tuesday
morning in the steam launch
Aurora, black with two red
stripes, funnel black with
a white band, the sum of five
pounds will be paid to anyone
who can give information to
Mrs. Smith, at Smith's Wharf,
or at 22lB, Baker Street, as
to the whereabouts of the said
Mordecai Smith and the
launch Aurora.
This was clearly Holmes's doing.
The Baker Street address was
enough to prove that. It struck
me as rather ingenious because
it might be read by the fugitives
without their seeing in it more
than the natural anxiety of a
wife for her missing husband.
It was a long day. Every time
that a knock came to the door
or a sharp step passed in the
street, I imagined that it was
either Holmes returning or an
answer to his advertisement.
I tried to read, but my thoughts
would wander off to our strange
quest and to the ill-assorted
and villainous pair whom we were
pursuing. Could there be, I wondered,
some radical flaw in my compan-
ion's reasoning? Might he not
be suffering from some huge self-deception?
Was it not possible that his
nimble and specula- tive mind
had built up this wild theory
upon faulty premises? I had never
known him to be wrong, and yet
the keenest reasoner may occasionally
be deceived. He was likely, I
thought, to fall into error through
the over-refinement of his logic
-- his prefer- ence for a subtle
and bizarre explanation when
a plainer and more commonplace
one lay ready to his hand. Yet,
on the other hand, I had myself
seen the evidence, and I had
heard the reasons for his deductions.
When I looked back on the long
chain of curious circumstances,
many of them trivial in them-
selves but all tending in the
same direction, I could not disguise
from myself that even if Holmes's
explanation were incorrect the
true theory must be equally outre
and startling.
At three o'clock on the afternoon
there was a loud peal at the
bell, an authoritative voice
in the hall, and, to my surprise,
no less a person than Mr. Athelney
Jones was shown up to me. Very
different was he, however, from
the brusque and masterful professor
of common sense who had taken
over the case so confidently
at Upper Norwood. His expression
was downcast, and his bearing
meek and even apologetic.
"Good-day, sir; good-day," said
he. "Mr. Sherlock Holmes is out,
I understand."
"Yes, and I
cannot be sure when he will
be back. But perhaps
you would care to wait. Take
that chair and try one of these
cigars."
"Thank you; I don't mind if
I do," said he, mopping his face
with a red bandanna handkerchief.
"And a whisky
and soda?"
"Well, half
a glass. It is very hot for
the time of year,
and I have had a good deal to
worry and try me. You know my
theory about this Norwood case?"
"I remember
that you expressed one."
"Well, I have
been obliged to reconsider
it. I had my net
drawn tightly round Mr. Sholto,
sir, when pop he went through
a hole in the middle of it. He
was able to prove an alibi which
could not be shaken. From the
time that he left his brother's
room he was never out of sight
of someone or other. So it could
not be he who climbed over roofs
and through trapdoors. It's a
very dark case, and my professional
credit is at stake. I should
be very glad of a little assistance."
"We all need help sometimes," said
I.
"Your friend, Mr. Sherlock
Holmes, is a wonderful man, sir," said
he in a husky and confidential
voice. "He's a man who is not
to be beat. I have known that
young man go into a good many
cases, but I never saw the case
yet that he could not throw a
light upon. He is irregular in
his methods and a little quick
perhaps in jumping at theories,
but, on the whole, I think he
would have made a most promising
officer, and I don't care who
knows it. I have had a wire from
him this morning, by which I
understand that he has got some
clue to this Sholto business.
Here is his message."
He took the telegram out of
his pocket and handed it to me.
It was dated from Poplar at twelve
o'clock.
Go to Baker Street at once
[it said]. If I have not returned,
wait for me. I am close on
the track of the Sholto gang.
You can come with us to-night
if you want to be in at the
finish.
"This sounds well. He has evidently
picked up the scent again," said
I.
"Ah, then he has been at fault
too," exclaimed Jones with evident
satisfaction. "Even the best
of us are thrown off some- times.
Of course this may prove to be
a false alarm but it is my duty
as an officer of the law to allow
no chance to slip. But there
is someone at the door. Perhaps
this is he."
A heavy step was heard ascending
the stair, with a great wheezing
and rattling as from a man who
was sorely put to it for breath.
Once or twice he stopped, as
though the climb were too much
for him, but at last he made
his way to our door and entered.
His appearance corresponded to
the sounds which we had heard.
He was an aged man, clad in seafaring
garb, with an old pea-jacket
buttoned up to his throat. His
back was bowed his knees were
shaky, and his breathing was
painfully asthmatic. As he leaned
upon a thick oaken cudgel his
shoulders heaved in the effort
to draw the air into his lungs.
He had a coloured scarf round
his chin, and I could see little
of his face save a pair of keen
dark eyes, overhung by bushy
white brows and long gray side-whiskers.
Altogether he gave me the impression
of a re- spectable master mariner
who had fallen into years and
poverty.
"What is it, my man?" I
asked.
He looked about him in the
slow methodical fashion of old
age.
"Is Mr. Sherlock Holmes here?" said
he.
"No; but I
am acting for him. You can
tell me any message you
have for him."
"It was to him himself I was
to tell it," said he.
"But I tell
you that I am acting for him.
Was it about Mordecai
Smith's boat?''
"Yes. I knows
well where it is. An' I knows
where the men
he is after are. An' I knows
where the treasure is. I knows
all about it."
"Then tell
me, and I shall let him know."
"It was to him I was to tell
it," he repeated with the petulant
obstinacy of a very old man.
"Well, you
must wait for him."
"No, no; I
ain't goin' to lose a whole
day to please no one.
If Mr. Holmes ain't here, then
Mr. Holmes must find it all out
for himself. I don't care about
the look of either of you, and
I won't tell a word."
He shuffled towards the door,
but Athelney Jones got in front
of him.
"Wait a bit, my friend," said
he. "You have important information,
and you must not walk off. We
shall keep you, whether you like
or not, until our friend returns."
The old man made a little run
towards the door, but, as Athelney
Jones put his broad back up against
it, he recognized the uselessness
of resistance.
"Pretty sort o' treatment this!" he
cried, stamping his stick. "I
come here to see a gentleman,
and you two, who I never saw
in my life, seize me and treat
me in this fashion!"
"You will be none the worse," I
said. "We shall recompense you
for the loss of your time. Sit
over here on the sofa, and you
will not have long to wait."
He came across sullenly enough
and seated himself with his face
resting on his hands. Jones and
I resumed our cigars and our
talk. Suddenly, however, Holmes's
voice broke in upon us.
"I think that you might offer
me a cigar too," he said.
We both started in our chairs.
There was Holmes sitting close
to us with an air of quiet amusement.
"Holmes!" I exclaimed. "You
here! But where is the old man?"
"Here is the old man," said
he, holding out a heap of white
hair. "Here he is -- wig, whiskers,
eyebrows, and all. I thought
my disguise was pretty good,
but I hardly expected that it
would stand that test."
"Ah, you rogue!" cried Jones,
highly delighted. "You would
have made an actor and a rare
one. You had the proper work-
house cough, and those weak legs
of yours are worth ten pound
a week. I thought I knew the
glint of your eye, though. You
didn't get away from us so easily,
you see."
"I have been working in that
get-up all day," said he, lighting
his cigar. "You see, a good many
of the criminal classes begin
to know me -- especially since
our friend here took to publishing
some of my cases: so I can only
go on the war-path under some
simple disguise like this. You
got my wire?"
"Yes; that
was what brought me here."
"How has your
case prospered?"
"It has all
come to nothing. I have had
to release two of
my prisoners, and there is no
evidence against the other two."
"Never mind.
We shall give you two others
in the place of
them. But you must put yourself
under my orders. You are welcome
to all the official credit, but
you must act on the lines that
I point out. Is that agreed?"
"Entirely,
if you will help me to the
men."
"Well, then,
in the first place I shall
want, a fast police-
boat -- a steam launch -- to
be at the Westminster Stairs
at seven o'clock."
"That is easily
managed. There is always one
about there, but
I can step across the road and
telephone to make sure."
"Then I shall
want two staunch men in case
of resistance."
"There will
be two or three in the boat.
What else?"
"When we secure
the men we shall get the treasure.
I think
that it would be a pleasure to
my friend here to take the box
round to the young lady to whom
half of it rightfully belongs.
Let her be the first to open
it. Eh, Watson?"
"It would be
a great pleasure to me."
"Rather an irregular proceeding," said
Jones, shaking his head. "However,
the whole thing is irregular,
and I suppose we must wink at
it. The treasure must afterwards
be handed over to the authorities
until after the official investigation."
"Certainly.
That is easily managed. One
other point. I should
much like to have a few details
about this matter from the lips
of Jonathan Small himself. You
know I like to work the details
of my cases out. There is no
objection to my having an unofficial
interview with him, either here
in my rooms or elsewhere, as
long as he is efficiently guarded?"
"Well, you
are master of the situation.
I have had no proof
yet of the existence of this
Jonathan Small. However, if you
can catch him, I don't see how
I can refuse you an interview
with him."
"That is understood,
then?"
"Perfectly.
Is there anything else?"
"Only that
I insist upon your dining with
us. It will be ready
in half an hour. I have oysters
and a brace of grouse, with something
a little choice in white wines.
-- Watson, you have never yet
recognized my merits as a housekeeper." |