“Then pray send him home in it. You may safely trust him,for he appears to be too limp to get into any mischief. I shouldrecommend you also to send a note by the cabman to your wifeto say that you have thrown in your lot with me. If you will waitoutside, I shall be with you in five minutes.”
It was difficult to refuse any of Sherlock Holmes’s requests, forthey were always so exceedingly definite, and put forward withsuch a quiet air of mastery. I felt, however, that when Whitney wasonce confined in the cab my mission was practically accomplished;and for the rest, I could not wish anything better than to beassociated with my friend in one of those singular adventureswhich were the normal condition of his existence. In a fewminutes I had written my note, paid Whitney’s bill, led him out tothe cab, and seen him driven through the darkness. In a very shorttime a decrepit figure had emerged from the opium den, and I waswalking down the street with Sherlock Holmes. For two streetshe shuffled along with a bent back and an uncertain foot. Then,glancing quickly round, he straightened himself out and burst intoa hearty fit of laughter.
“I suppose, Watson,” said he, “that you imagine that I haveadded opium-smoking to cocaine injections, and all the other littleweaknesses on which you have favoured me with your medicalviews.”
“I was certainly surprised to find you there.”
“But not more so than I to find you.”
“I came to find a friend.”
“And I to find an enemy.”
“An enemy?”
“Yes; one of my natural enemies, or, shall I say, my natural prey.
Briefly, Watson, I am in the midst of a very remarkable inquiry,and I have hoped to find a clue in the incoherent ramblings ofthese sots, as I have done before now. Had I been recognised inthat den my life would not have been worth an hour’s purchase;for I have used it before now for my own purposes, and therascally Lascar who runs it has sworn to have vengeance upon me.
There is a trap-door at the back of that building, near the cornerof Paul’s Wharf, which could tell some strange tales of what haspassed through it upon the moonless nights.”
“What! You do not mean bodies?”
“Ay, bodies, Watson. We should be rich men if we had ￡1000for every poor devil who has been done to death in that den. Itis the vilest murder-trap on the whole riverside, and I fear thatNeville St. Clair has entered it never to leave it more. But our trapshould be here.” He put his two forefingers between his teeth andwhistled shrilly—a signal which was answered by a similar whistlefrom the distance, followed shortly by the rattle of wheels and theclink of horses’ hoofs.
“Now, Watson,” said Holmes, as a tall dog-cart dashed upthrough the gloom, throwing out two golden tunnels of yellowlight from its side lanterns. “You’ll come with me, won’t you?”
“If I can be of use.”
“Oh, a trusty comrade is always of use; and a chronicler stillmore so. My room at The Cedars is a double-bedded one.”
“The Cedars?”
“Yes; that is Mr. St. Clair’s house. I am staying there while Iconduct the inquiry.”
“Where is it, then?”
“Near Lee, in Kent. We have a seven-mile drive before us.”
“But I am all in the dark.”
“Of course you are. You’ll know all about it presently. Jump uphere. All right, John; we shall not need you. Here’s half a crown.
Look out for me to-morrow, about eleven. Give her her head. Solong, then!”
He flicked the horse with his whip, and we dashed away throughthe endless succession of sombre and deserted streets, whichwidened gradually, until we were flying across a broad balustradedbridge, with the murky river flowing sluggishly beneath us. Beyondlay another dull wilderness of bricks and mortar, its silence brokenonly by the heavy, regular footfall of the policeman, or the songsand shouts of some belated party of revellers. A dull wrack wasdrifting slowly across the sky, and a star or two twinkled dimlyhere and there through the rifts of the clouds. Holmes drove insilence, with his head sunk upon his breast, and the air of a manwho is lost in thought, while I sat beside him, curious to learnwhat this new quest might be which seemed to tax his powers sosorely, and yet afraid to break in upon the current of his thoughts.
We had driven several miles, and were beginning to get to thefringe of the belt of suburban villas, when he shook himself,shrugged his shoulders, and lit up his pipe with the air of a manwho has satisfied himself that he is acting for the best.
“You have a grand gift of silence, Watson,” said he. “It makesyou quite invaluable as a companion. ’Pon my word, it is a greatthing for me to have someone to talk to, for my own thoughts arenot over-pleasant. I was wondering what I should say to this dearlittle woman to-night when she meets me at the door.”
“You forget that I know nothing about it.”
“I shall just have time to tell you the facts of the case before weget to Lee. It seems absurdly simple, and yet, somehow, I can getnothing to go upon. There’s plenty of thread, no doubt, but I can’tget the end of it into my hand. Now, I’ll state the case clearly andconcisely to you, Watson, and maybe you can see a spark where allis dark to me.”
“Proceed, then.”