to each question, innocent ones at first, to test whether either of
our companions knew anything of the matter, and then, as I found that
they showed no signs I played a more dangerous game. Our
conversation ran something like this:
"'You can do no good by this obstinacy. Who are you?'
"'I care not. I am a stranger in London.'
"'Your fate will be upon your own head. How long have you been here?'
"'Let it be so. Three weeks.'
"'The property can never be yours. What ails you?'
"'It shall not go to villains. They are starving me.'
"'You shall go free if you sign. What house is this?'
"'I will never sign. I do not know.'
"'You are not doing her any service. What is your name?'
"'Let me hear her say so. Kratides.'
"'You shall see her if you sign. Where are you from?'
"'Then I shall never see her. Athens.'
"Another five minutes, Mr. Holmes, and I should have wormed out the
whole story under their very noses. My very next question might have
cleared the matter up, but at that instant the door opened and a
woman stepped into the room. I could not see her clearly enough to
know more than that she was tall and graceful, with black hair, and
clad in some sort of loose white gown.
"'Harold,' said she, speaking English with a broken accent. 'I could
not stay away longer. It is so lonely up there with only--Oh, my
God, it is Paul!'
"These last words were in Greek, and at the same instant the man with
a convulsive effort tore the plaster from his lips, and screaming out
'Sophy! Sophy!' rushed into the woman's arms. Their embrace was but
for an instant, however, for the younger man seized the woman and
pushed her out of the room, while the elder easily overpowered his
emaciated victim, and dragged him away through the other door. For a
moment I was left alone in the room, and I sprang to my feet with
some vague idea that I might in some way get a clue to what this
house was in which I found myself. Fortunately, however, I took no
steps, for looking up I saw that the older man was standing in the
door-way with his eyes fixed upon me.
"'That will do, Mr. Melas,' said he. 'You perceive that we have
taken you into our confidence over some very private business. We
should not have troubled you, only that our friend who speaks Greek
and who began these negotiations has been forced to return to the
East. It was quite necessary for us to find some one to take his
place, and we were fortunate in hearing of your powers.'
"I bowed.
"'There are five sovereigns here,' said he, walking up to me, 'which
will, I hope, be a sufficient fee. But remember,' he added, tapping
me lightly on the chest and giggling, 'if you speak to a human soul
about this--one human soul, mind--well, may God have mercy upon your
soul!'
"I cannot tell you the loathing and horror with which this
insignificant-looking man inspired me. I could see him better now as
the lamp-light shone upon him. His features were peaky and sallow,
and his little pointed beard was thready and ill-nourished. He
pushed his face forward as he spoke and his lips and eyelids were
continually twitching like a man with St. Vitus's dance. I could not
help thinking that his strange, catchy little laugh was also a
symptom of some nervous malady. The terror of his face lay in his
eyes, however, steel gray, and glistening coldly with a malignant,
inexorable cruelty in their depths.
"'We shall know if you speak of this,' said he. 'We have our own
means of information. Now you will find the carriage waiting, and my
friend will see you on your way.'
"I was hurried through the hall and into the vehicle, again obtaining
that momentary glimpse of trees and a garden. Mr. Latimer followed
closely at my heels, and took his place opposite to me without a
word. In silence we again drove for an interminable distance with
the windows raised, until at last, just after midnight, the carriage
pulled up.
"'You will get down here, Mr. Melas,' said my companion. 'I am sorry
to leave you so far from your house, but there is no alternative.
Any attempt upon your part to follow the carriage can only end in
injury to yourself.'
"He opened the door as he spoke, and I had hardly time to spring out
when the coachman lashed the horse and the carriage rattled away. I
looked around me in astonishment. I was on some sort of a heathy
common mottled over with dark clumps of furze-bushes. Far away
stretched a line of houses, with a light here and there in the upper
windows. On the other side I saw the red signal-lamps of a railway.
"The carriage which had brought me was already out of sight. I stood
gazing round and wondering where on earth I might be, when I saw some
one coming towards me in the darkness. As he came up to me I made
out that he was a railway porter.
"'Can you tell me what place this is?' I asked.
"'Wandsworth Common,' said he.
"'Can I get a train into town?'
"'If you walk on a mile or so to Clapham Junction,' said he, 'you'll
just be in time for the last to Victoria.'
"So that was the end of my adventure, Mr. Holmes. I do not know
where I was, nor whom I spoke with, nor anything save what I have
told you. But I know that there is foul play going on, and I want to
help that unhappy man if I can. I told the whole story to Mr.
Mycroft Holmes next morning, and subsequently to the police."
We all sat in silence for some little time after listening to this
extraordinary narrative. Then Sherlock looked across at his brother.
"Any steps?" he asked.
Mycroft picked up the Daily News, which was lying on the side-table.
"Anybody supplying any information as to the whereabouts of a Greek
gentleman named Paul Kratides, from Athens, who is unable to speak
English, will be rewarded. A similar reward paid to any one giving
information about a Greek lady whose first name is Sophy. X 2473.
"That was in all the dailies. No answer."
"How about the Greek Legation?"
"I have inquired. They know nothing."
"A wire to the head of the Athens police, then?"
"Sherlock has all the energy of the family," said Mycroft, turning to
me. "Well, you take the case up by all means, and let me know if you
do any good."
"Certainly," answered my friend, rising from his chair. "I'll let
you know, and Mr. Melas also. In the meantime, Mr. Melas, I should
certainly be on my guard, if I were you, for of course they must know
through these advertisements that you have betrayed them."
As we walked home together, Holmes stopped at a telegraph office and
sent off several wires.
"You see, Watson," he remarked, "our evening has been by no means
wasted. Some of my most interesting cases have come to me in this
way through Mycroft. The problem which we have just listened to,
although it can admit of but one explanation, has still some
distinguishing features."
"You have hopes of solving it?"
"Well, knowing as much as we do, it will be singular indeed if we
fail to discover the rest. You must yourself have formed some theory
which will explain the facts to which we have listened."
"In a vague way, yes."
"What was your idea, then?"
"It seemed to me to be obvious that this Greek girl had been carried
off by the young Englishman named Harold Latimer."
"Carried off from where?"
"Athens, perhaps."
Sherlock Holmes shook his head. "This young man could not talk a
word of Greek. The lady could talk English fairly well.
Inference--that she had been in England some little time, but he had
not been in Greece."
"Well, then, we will presume that she had come on a visit to England,
and that this Harold had persuaded her to fly with him."
"That is more probable."
"Then the brother--for that, I fancy, must be the relationship--comes
over from Greece to interfere. He imprudently puts himself into the
power of the young man and his older associate. They seize him and
use violence towards him in order to make him sign some papers to
make over the girl's fortune--of which he may be trustee--to them.
This he refuses to do. In order to negotiate with him they have to
get an interpreter, and they pitch upon this Mr. Melas, having used
some other one before. The girl is not told of the arrival of her
brother, and finds it out by the merest accident."
"Excellent, Watson!" cried Holmes. "I really fancy that you are not
far from the truth. You see that we hold all the cards, and we have
only to fear some sudden act of violence on their part. If they give
us time we must have them."
"But how can we find where this house lies?"
"Well, if our conjecture is correct and the girl's name is or was
Sophy Kratides, we should have no difficulty in tracing her. That
must be our main hope, for the brother is, of course, a complete
stranger. It is clear that some time has elapsed since this Harold
established these relations with the girl--some weeks, at any
rate--since the brother in Greece has had time to hear of it and come
across. If they have been living in the same place during this time,
it is probable that we shall have some answer to Mycroft's
advertisement."
We had reached our house in Baker Street while we had been talking.
Holmes ascended the stair first, and as he opened the door of our
room he gave a start of surprise. Looking over his shoulder, I was
equally astonished. His brother Mycroft was sitting smoking in the
arm-chair.
"Come in, Sherlock! Come in, sir," said he blandly, smiling at our
surprised faces. "You don't expect such energy from me, do you,
Sherlock? But somehow this case attracts me."
"How did you get here?"
"I passed you in a hansom."
"There has been some new development?"
"I had an answer to my advertisement."
"Ah!"
"Yes, it came within a few minutes of your leaving."
"And to what effect?"
Mycroft Holmes took out a sheet of paper.
"Here it is," said he, "written with a J pen on royal cream paper by
a middle-aged man with a weak constitution.
"Sir [he says]:
"In answer to your advertisement of to-day's date, I beg to inform
you that I know the young lady in question very well. If you should
care to call upon me I could give you some particulars as to her
painful history. She is living at present at The Myrtles, Beckenham.
"Yours faithfully,
"J. Davenport.
"He writes from Lower Brixton," said Mycroft Holmes. "Do you not
think that we might drive to him now, Sherlock, and learn these
particulars?"
"My dear Mycroft, the brother's life is more valuable than the
sister's story. I think we should call at Scotland Yard for
Inspector Gregson, and go straight out to Beckenham. We know that a
man is being done to death, and every hour may be vital."
"Better pick up Mr. Melas on our way," I suggested. "We may need an
interpreter."
"Excellent," said Sherlock Holmes. "Send the boy for a four-wheeler,
and we shall be off at once." He opened the table-drawer as he
spoke, and I noticed that he slipped his revolver into his pocket.
"Yes," said he, in answer to my glance; "I should say from what we
have heard, that we are dealing with a particularly dangerous gang."
It was almost dark before we found ourselves in Pall Mall, at the
rooms of Mr. Melas. A gentleman had just called for him, and he was
gone.
"Can you tell me where?" asked Mycroft Holmes.
"I don't know, sir," answered the woman who had opened the door; "I
only know that he drove away with the gentleman in a carriage."
"Did the gentleman give a name?"
"No, sir."
"He wasn't a tall, handsome, dark young man?"
"Oh, no, sir. He was a little gentleman, with glasses, thin in the
face, but very pleasant in his ways, for he was laughing al the time
that he was talking."
"Come along!" cried Sherlock Holmes, abruptly. "This grows serious,"
he observed, as we drove to Scotland Yard. "These men have got hold
of Melas again. He is a man of no physical courage, as they are well
aware from their experience the other night. This villain was able
to terrorize him the instant that he got into his presence. No doubt
they want his professional services, but, having used him, they may
