to my dirty little lieutenant, Wiggins, and I expect that he and his
gang will be with us before we have finished our breakfast."
It was between eight and nine o'clock now, and I was conscious of
a strong reaction after the successive excitements of the night. I was
limp and weary, befogged in mind and fatigued in body. I had not the
professional enthusiasm which carried my companion on, nor could I
look at the matter as a mere abstract intellectual problem. As far
as the death of Bartholomew Sholto went, I had heard little good of
him and could feel no intense antipathy to his murderers. The
treasure, however, was a different matter. That, or part of it,
belonged rightfully to Miss Morstan. While there was a chance of
recovering it I was ready to devote my life to the one object. True,
if I found it, it would probably put her forever beyond my reach.
Yet it would be a petty and selfish love which would be influenced
by such a thought as that. If Holmes could work to find the criminals,
I had a tenfold stronger reason to urge me on to find the treasure.
A bath at Baker Street and a complete change freshened me up
wonderfully. When I came down to our room I found the breakfast laid
and Holmes pouring out the coffee.
"Here it is," said he, laughing and pointing to an open newspaper.
"The energetic Jones and the ubiquitous reporter have fixed it up
between them. But you have had enough of the case. Better have your
ham and eggs first."
I took the paper from him and read the short notice, which was
headed "Mysterious Business at Upper Norwood."
About twelve o'clock last night [said the Standard] Mr.
Bartholomew Sholto, of Pondicherry Lodge, Upper Norwood, was found
dead in his room under circumstances which point to foul play. As
far as we can learn, no actual traces of violence were found upon
Mr. Sholto's person, but a valuable collection of Indian gems which
the deceased gentleman had inherited from his father has been
carried off. The discovery was first made by Mr. Sherlock Holmes and
Dr. Watson, who had called at the house with Mr. Thaddeus Sholto,
brother of the deceased. By a singular piece of good fortune, Mr.
Athelney Jones, the well-known member of the detective police force,
happened to be at the Norwood police station and was on the ground
within half an hour of the first alarm. His trained and experienced
faculties were at once directed towards the detection of the
criminals, with the gratifying result that the brother, Thaddeus
Sholto, has already been arrested, together with the housekeeper, Mrs.
Bernstone, an Indian butler named Lal Rao, and a porter, or
gatekeeper, named McMurdo. It is quite certain that the thief or
thieves were well acquainted with the house, for Mr. Jones's
well-known technical knowledge and his powers of minute observation
have enabled him to prove conclusively that the miscreants could not
have entered by the door or by the window but must have made their way
across the roof of the building, and so through a trapdoor into a room
which communicated with that in which the body was found. This fact,
which has been very clearly made out, proves conclusively that it
was no mere haphazard burglary. The prompt and energetic action of the
officers of the law shows the great advantage of the presence on
such occasions of a single vigorous and masterful mind. We cannot
but think that it supplies an argument to those who would wish to
see our detectives more de-centralized, and so brought into closer and
more effective touch with the cases which it is their duty to
investigate.
"Isn't it gorgeous!" said Holmes, grinning over his coffee cup.
"What do you think of it?"
"I think that we have had a close shave ourselves of being
arrested for the crime."
"So do I. I wouldn't answer for our safety now if he should happen
to have another of his attacks of energy."
At this moment there was a loud ring at the bell, and I could hear
Mrs. Hudson, our landlady, raising her voice in a wail of
expostulation and dismay.
"By heavens, Holmes," I said, half rising, "I believe that they
are really after us."
"No, it's not quite so bad as that. It is the unofficial force-
the Baker Street irregulars."
As he spoke, there came a swift pattering of naked feet upon the
stairs, a clatter of high voices, and in rushed a dozen dirty and
ragged little street Arabs. There was some show of discipline among
them, despite their tumultuous entry, for they instantly drew up in
line and stood facing us with expectant faces. One of their number,
taller and older than the others, stood forward with an air of
lounging superiority which was very funny in such a disreputable
little scarecrow.
"Got your message, sir," said he, "and brought 'em on sharp. Three
bob and a tanner for tickets."
"Here you are," said Holmes, producing some silver. "In future
they can report to you, Wiggins, and you to me. I cannot have the
house invaded in this way. However, it is just as well that you should
all hear the instructions. I want to find the whereabouts of a steam
launch called the Aurora, owner Mordecai Smith, black with two red
streaks, funnel black with a white band. She is down the river
somewhere. I want one boy to be at Mordecai Smith's landing-stage
opposite Millbank to say if the boat comes back. You must divide it
out among yourselves and do both banks thoroughly. Let me know the
moment you have news. Is that all clear?"
"Yes, guv'nor," said Wiggins.
"The old scale of pay, and a guinea to the boy who finds the boat.
Here's a day in advance. Now off you go!"
He handed them a shilling each, and away they buzzed down the
stairs, and I saw them a moment later streaming down the street.
"If the launch is above water they will find her," said Holmes as he
rose from the table and lit his pipe. "They can go everywhere, see
everything, overhear everyone. I expect to hear before evening that
they have spotted her. In the meanwhile, we can do nothing but await
results. We cannot pick up the broken trail until we find either the
Aurora or Mr. Mordecai Smith."
"Toby could eat these scraps, I dare say. Are you going to bed,
Holmes?"
"No: I am not tired. I have a curious constitution. I never remember
feeling tired by work, though idleness exhausts me completely. I am
going to smoke and to think over this queer business to which my
fair client has introduced us. If ever man had an easy task, this of
ours ought to be. Wooden-legged men are not so common, but the other
man must, I should think, be absolutely unique."
"That other man again!"
"I have no wish to make a mystery of him to you, anyway. But you
must have formed your own opinion. Now, do consider the data.
Diminutive footmarks, toes never fettered by boots, naked feet,
stone-headed wooden mace, great agility, small poisoned darts. What do
you make of all this?"
"A savage!" I exclaimed. "Perhaps one of those Indians who were
the associates of Jonathan Small."
"Hardly that," said he. "When first I saw signs of strange weapons I
was inclined to think so, but the remarkable character of the
footmarks caused me to reconsider my views. Some of the inhabitants of
the Indian Peninsula are small men, but none could have left such
marks as that. The Hindoo proper has long and thin feet. The
sandal-wearing Mohammedan has the great toe well separated from the
others because the thong is commonly passed between. These little
darts, too, could only be shot in one way. They are from a
blow-pipe. Now, then, where are we to find our savage?"
"South America," I hazarded.
He stretched his hand up and took down a bulky volume from the
shelf.
"This is the first volume of a gazetteer which is now being
published. It may be looked upon as the very latest authority. What
have we here?
"Andaman Islands, situated 340 miles to the north of Sumatra, in the
Bay of Bengal.
Hum! hum! What's all this? Moist climate, coral reefs, sharks, Port
Blair, convict barracks, Rutland Island, cottonwoods- Ah, here we are!
"The aborigines of the Andaman Islands may perhaps claim the
distinction of being the smallest race upon this earth, though some
anthropologists prefer the Bushmen of Africa, the Digger Indians of
America, and the Terra del Fuegians. The average height is rather
below four feet, although many full-grown adults may be found who
are very much smaller than this. They are a fierce, morose, and
intractable people, though capable of fortning most devoted
friendships when their confidence has once been gained.
Mark that, Watson. Now, then listen to this.
"They are naturally hideous, having large, misshapen heads, small
fierce eyes, and distorted features. Their feet and hands, however,
are remarkably small. So intractable and fierce are they, that all the
efforts of the British officials have failed to win them over in any
degree. They have always been a terror to shipwrecked crews,
braining the survivors with their stone-headed clubs or shooting
them with their poisoned arrows. These massacres are invariably
concluded by a cannibal feast.
Nice, amiable people, Watson! If this fellow had been left to his
own unaided devices, this affair might have taken an even more ghastly
turn. I fancy that, even as it is, Jonathan Small would give a good
deal not to have employed him."
"But how came he to have so singular a companion?"
"Ah, that is more than I can tell. Since, however, we had already
determined that Small had come from the Andamans, it is not so very
wonderful that this islander should be with him. No doubt we shall
know all about it in time. Look here, Watson; you look regularly done.
Lie down there on the sofa and see if I can put you to sleep."
He took up his violin from the corner, and as I stretched myself out
he began to play some low, dreamy, melodious air- his own, no doubt,
for he had a remarkable gift for improvisation. I have a vague
remembrance of his gaunt limbs, his earnest face and the rise and fall
of his bow. Then I seemed to be floated peacefully away upon a soft
sea of sound until I found myself in dreamland, with the sweet face of
Mary Morstan looking down upon me.
Chapter 9
A BREAK IN THE CHAIN
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
disappointed. 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 ourselves 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, suppressing, 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
