Mall, and then, leaving me for a minute, he came back with a
companion whom I knew could only be his brother.
Mycroft Holmes was a much larger and stouter man than Sherlock. His
body was absolutely corpulent, but his face, though massive, had
preserved something of the sharpness of expression which was so
remarkable in that of his brother. His eyes, which were of a
peculiarly light, watery gray, seemed to always retain that far-away,
introspective look which I had only observed in Sherlock's when he
was exerting his full powers.
"I am glad to meet you, sir," said he, putting out a broad, fat hand
like the flipper of a seal. "I hear of Sherlock everywhere since you
became his chronicler. By the way, Sherlock, I expected to see you
round last week, to consult me over that Manor House case. I thought
you might be a little out of your depth."
"No, I solved it," said my friend, smiling.
"It was Adams, of course."
"Yes, it was Adams."
"I was sure of it from the first." The two sat down together in the
bow-window of the club. "To any one who wishes to study mankind this
is the spot," said Mycroft. "Look at the magnificent types! Look at
these two men who are coming towards us, for example."
"The billiard-marker and the other?"
"Precisely. What do you make of the other?"
The two men had stopped opposite the window. Some chalk marks over
the waistcoat pocket were the only signs of billiards which I could
see in one of them. The other was a very small, dark fellow, with
his hat pushed back and several packages under his arm.
"An old soldier, I perceive," said Sherlock.
"And very recently discharged," remarked the brother.
"Served in India, I see."
"And a non-commissioned officer."
"Royal Artillery, I fancy," said Sherlock.
"And a widower."
"But with a child."
"Children, my dear boy, children."
"Come," said I, laughing, "this is a little too much."
"Surely," answered Holmes, "it is not hard to say that a man with
that bearing, expression of authority, and sunbaked skin, is a
soldier, is more than a private, and is not long from India."
"That he has not left the service long is shown by his still wearing
is ammunition boots, as they are called," observed Mycroft.
"He had not the cavalry stride, yet he wore his hat on one side, as
is shown by the lighter skin of that side of his brow. His weight is
against his being a sapper. He is in the artillery."
"Then, of course, his complete mourning shows that he has lost some
one very dear. The fact that he is doing his own shopping looks as
though it were his wife. He has been buying things for children, you
perceive. There is a rattle, which shows that one of them is very
young. The wife probably died in childbed. The fact that he has a
picture-book under his arm shows that there is another child to be
thought of."
I began to understand what my friend meant when he said that his
brother possessed even keener faculties that he did himself. He
glanced across at me and smiled. Mycroft took snuff from a
tortoise-shell box, and brushed away the wandering grains from his
coat front with a large, red silk handkerchief.
"By the way, Sherlock," said he, "I have had something quite after
your own heart--a most singular problem--submitted to my judgment. I
really had not the energy to follow it up save in a very incomplete
fashion, but it gave me a basis for some pleasing speculation. If
you would care to hear the facts--"
"My dear Mycroft, I should be delighted."
The brother scribbled a note upon a leaf of his pocket-book, and,
ringing the bell, he handed it to the waiter.
"I have asked Mr. Melas to step across," said he. "He lodges on the
floor above me, and I have some slight acquaintance with him, which
led him to come to me in his perplexity. Mr. Melas is a Greek by
extraction, as I understand, and he is a remarkable linguist. He
earns his living partly as interpreter in the law courts and partly
by acting as guide to any wealthy Orientals who may visit the
Northumberland Avenue hotels. I think I will leave him to tell his
very remarkable experience in his own fashion."
A few minutes later we were joined by a short, stout man whose olive
face and coal-black hair proclaimed his Southern origin, though his
speech was that of an educated Englishman. He shook hands eagerly
with Sherlock Holmes, and his dark eyes sparkled with pleasure when
he understood that the specialist was anxious to hear his story.
"I do not believe that the police credit me--on my word, I do not,"
said he in a wailing voice. "Just because they have never heard of
it before, they think that such a thing cannot be. But I know that I
shall never be easy in my mind until I know what has become of my
poor man with the sticking-plaster upon his face."
"I am all attention," said Sherlock Holmes.
"This is Wednesday evening," said Mr. Melas. "Well then, it was
Monday night--only two days ago, you understand--that all this
happened. I am an interpreter, as perhaps my neighbor there has told
you. I interpret all languages--or nearly all--but as I am a Greek
by birth and with a Grecian name, it is with that particular tongue
that I am principally associated. For many years I have been the
chief Greek interpreter in London, and my name is very well known in
the hotels.
It happens not unfrequently that I am sent for at strange hours by
foreigners who get into difficulties, or by travelers who arrive late
and wish my services. I was not surprised, therefore, on Monday
night when a Mr. Latimer, a very fashionably dressed young man, came
up to my rooms and asked me to accompany him in a cab which was
waiting at the door. A Greek friend had come to see him upon
business, he said, and as he could speak nothing but his own tongue,
the services of an interpreter were indispensable. He gave me to
understand that his house was some little distance off, in
Kensington, and he seemed to be in a great hurry, bustling me rapidly
into the cab when we had descended to the street.
"I say into the cab, but I soon became doubtful as to whether it was
not a carriage in which I found myself. It was certainly more roomy
than the ordinary four-wheeled disgrace to London, and the fittings,
though frayed, were of rich quality. Mr. Latimer seated himself
opposite to me and we started off through Charing Cross and up the
Shaftesbury Avenue. We had come out upon Oxford Street and I had
ventured some remark as to this being a roundabout way to Kensington,
when my words were arrested by the extraordinary conduct of my
companion.
"He began by drawing a most formidable-looking bludgeon loaded with
lead from his pocket, and switching it backward and forward several
times, as if to test its weight and strength. Then he placed it
without a word upon the seat beside him. Having done this, he drew
up the windows on each side, and I found to my astonishment that they
were covered with paper so as to prevent my seeing through them.
"'I am sorry to cut off your view, Mr. Melas,' said he. 'The fact is
that I have no intention that you should see what the place is to
which we are driving. It might possibly be inconvenient to me if you
could find your way there again.'
"As you can imagine, I was utterly taken aback by such an address.
My companion was a powerful, broad-shouldered young fellow, and,
apart from the weapon, I should not have had the slightest chance in
a struggle with him.
"'This is very extraordinary conduct, Mr. Latimer,' I stammered.
'You must be aware that what you are doing is quite illegal.'
"'It is somewhat of a liberty, no doubt,' said he, 'but we'll make it
up to you. I must warn you, however, Mr. Melas, that if at any time
to-night you attempt to raise an alarm or do anything which is
against my interests, you will find it a very serious thing. I beg
you to remember that no one knows where you are, and that, whether
you are in this carriage or in my house, you are equally in my
power.'
"His words were quiet, but he had a rasping way of saying them which
was very menacing. I sat in silence wondering what on earth could be
his reason for kidnapping me in this extraordinary fashion. Whatever
it might be, it was perfectly clear that there was no possible use in
my resisting, and that I could only wait to see what might befall.
"For nearly two hours we drove without my having the least clue as to
where we were going. Sometimes the rattle of the stones told of a
paved causeway, and at others our smooth, silent course suggested
asphalt; but, save by this variation in sound, there was nothing at
all which could in the remotest way help me to form a guess as to
where we were. The paper over each window was impenetrable to light,
and a blue curtain was drawn across the glass work in front. It was
a quarter-past seven when we left Pall Mall, and my watch showed me
that it was ten minutes to nine when we at last came to a standstill.
My companion let down the window, and I caught a glimpse of a low,
arched doorway with a lamp burning above it. As I was hurried from
the carriage it swung open, and I found myself inside the house, with
a vague impression of a lawn and trees on each side of me as I
entered. Whether these were private grounds, however, or bona-fide
country was more than I could possibly venture to say.
"There was a colored gas-lamp inside which was turned so low that I
could see little save that the hall was of some size and hung with
pictures. In the dim light I could make out that the person who had
opened the door was a small, mean-looking, middle-aged man with
rounded shoulders. As he turned towards us the glint of the light
showed me that he was wearing glasses.
"'Is this Mr. Melas, Harold?' said he.
"'Yes.'
"'Well done, well done! No ill-will, Mr. Melas, I hope, but we could
not get on without you. If you deal fair with us you'll not regret
it, but if you try any tricks, God help you!' He spoke in a nervous,
jerky fashion, and with little giggling laughs in between, but
somehow he impressed me with fear more than the other.
"'What do you want with me?' I asked.
"'Only to ask a few questions of a Greek gentleman who is visiting
us, and to let us have the answers. But say no more than you are
told to say, or--' here came the nervous giggle again--'you had
better never have been born.'
"As he spoke he opened a door and showed the way into a room which
appeared to be very richly furnished, but again the only light was
afforded by a single lamp half-turned down. The chamber was
certainly large, and the way in which my feet sank into the carpet as
I stepped across it told me of its richness. I caught glimpses of
velvet chairs, a high white marble mantel-piece, and what seemed to
be a suit of Japanese armor at one side of it. There was a chair
just under the lamp, and the elderly man motioned that I should sit
in it. The younger had left us, but he suddenly returned through
another door, leading with him a gentleman clad in some sort of loose
dressing-gown who moved slowly towards us. As he came into the
circle of dim light which enables me to see him more clearly I was
thrilled with horror at his appearance. He was deadly pale and
terribly emaciated, with the protruding, brilliant eyes of a man
whose spirit was greater than his strength. But what shocked me more
than any signs of physical weakness was that his face was grotesquely
criss-crossed with sticking-plaster, and that one large pad of it was
fastened over his mouth.
"'Have you the slate, Harold?' cried the older man, as this strange
being fell rather than sat down into a chair. 'Are his hands loose?
Now, then, give him the pencil. You are to ask the questions, Mr.
Melas, and he will write the answers. Ask him first of all whether
he is prepared to sign the papers?'
"The man's eyes flashed fire.
"'Never!' he wrote in Greek upon the slate.
"'On no condition?' I asked, at the bidding of our tyrant.
"'Only if I see her married in my presence by a Greek priest whom I
know.'
"The man giggled in his venomous way.
"'You know what awaits you, then?'
"'I care nothing for myself.'
"These are samples of the questions and answers which made up our
strange half-spoken, half-written conversation. Again and again I
had to ask him whether he would give in and sign the documents.
Again and again I had the same indignant reply. But soon a happy
thought came to me. I took to adding on little sentences of my own
