“You must let me speak,” said the woman, in an imperativevoice, and her face contracted as if in pain. “When he had fallenrushed from the room, chose the wrong door, and found myselfThe Return of Sherlock Holmes 1029
in my husband’s room. He spoke of giving me up. I showed himthat if he did so, his life was in my hands. If he gave me to thelaw, I could give him to the Brotherhood. It was not that I wishedto live for my own sake, but it was that I desired to accomplishmy purpose. He knew that I would do what I said—that his ownfate was involved in mine. For that reason, and for no other, heshielded me. He thrust me into that dark hiding-place—a relicof old days, known only to himself. He took his meals in his ownroom, and so was able to give me part of his food. It was agreedthat when the police left the house I should slip away by night andcome back no more. But in some way you have read our plans.” Shetore from the bosom of her dress a small packet. “These are my lastwords,” said she; “here is the packet which will save Alexis. I confideit to your honour and to your love of justice. Take it! You will deliverit at the Russian Embassy. Now, I have done my duty, and——”
“Stop her!” cried Holmes. He had bounded across the room andhad wrenched a small phial from her hand.
“Too late!” she said, sinking back on the bed. “Too late! I tookthe poison before I left my hiding-place. My head swims! I amgoing! I charge you, sir, to remember the packet.”
“A simple case, and yet, in some ways, an instructive one,”
Holmes remarked, as we travelled back to town. “It hinged fromthe outset upon the pince-nez. But for the fortunate chance ofthe dying man having seized these, I am not sure that we couldever have reached our solution. It was clear to me, from thestrength of the glasses, that the wearer must have been veryblind and helpless when deprived of them. When you asked meto believe that she walked along a narrow strip of grass withoutonce making a false step, I remarked, as you may remember, thatit was a noteworthy performance. In my mind I set it down asan impossible performance, save in the unlikely case that shehad a second pair of glasses. I was forced, therefore, to considerseriously the hypothesis that she had remained within the house.
On perceiving the similarity of the two corridors, it became clearthat she might very easily have made such a mistake, and, in thatcase, it was evident that she must have entered the professor’sroom. I was keenly on the alert, therefore, for whatever wouldbear out this supposition, and I examined the room narrowlyfor anything in the shape of a hiding-place. The carpet seemedcontinuous and firmly nailed, so I dismissed the idea of a trapdoor.
There might well be a recess behind the books. As you areaware, such devices are common in old libraries. I observed thatbooks were piled on the floor at all other points, but that onebookcase was left clear. This, then, might be the door. I couldsee no marks to guide me, but the carpet was of a dun colour,1030 The Complete Sherlock Holmes
which lends itself very well to examination. I therefore smokedgreat number of those excellent cigarettes, and I droppedthe ash all over the space in front of the suspected bookcase.
It was a simple trick, but exceedingly effective. I then wentdownstairs, and I ascertained, in your presence, Watson, withoutyour perceiving the drift of my remarks, that Professor Coram’sconsumption of food had increased—as one would expect whenhe is supplying a second person. We then ascended to the roomagain, when, by upsetting the cigarette-box, I obtained a veryexcellent view of the floor, and was able to see quite clearly, fromthe traces upon the cigarette ash, that the prisoner had in ourabsence come out from her retreat. Well, Hopkins, here we areat Charing Cross, and I congratulate you on having brought yourcase to a successful conclusion. You are going to headquarters,no doubt. I think, Watson, you and I will drive together to theRussian Embassy.”
The Adventure of the Missing Three-Quarter
We were fairly accustomed to receive weird telegrams at BakerStreet, but I have a particular recollection of one which reachedus on a gloomy February morning, some seven or eight years ago,and gave Mr. Sherlock Holmes a puzzled quarter of an hour. It wasaddressed to him, and ran thus:
Please await me. Terrible misfortune. Right wing three-quartermissing, indispensable to-morrow.
OVERTON.
“Strand postmark, and dispatched ten thirty-six,” said Holmes,reading it over and over. “Mr. Overton was evidently considerablyexcited when he sent it, and somewhat incoherent in consequence.
Well, well, he will be here, I daresay, by the time I have looked throughthe TIMES, and then we shall know all about it. Even the mostinsignificant problem would be welcome in these stagnant days.”
Things had indeed been very slow with us, and I had learned todread such periods of inaction, for I knew by experience that mycompanion’s brain was so abnormally active that it was dangerousto leave it without material upon which to work. For years I hadgradually weaned him from that drug mania which had threatenedonce to check his remarkable career. Now I knew that underordinary conditions he no longer craved for this artificial stimulus,but I was well aware that the fiend was not dead but sleeping,and I have known that the sleep was a light one and the wakingnear when in periods of idleness I have seen the drawn lookupon Holmes’s ascetic face, and the brooding of his deep-set andinscrutable eyes. Therefore I blessed this Mr. Overton whoever heThe Return of Sherlock Holmes 1031
might be, since he had come with his enigmatic message to breakthat dangerous calm which brought more peril to my friend thanall the storms of his tempestuous life.