“ ‘Harold,’ said she, speaking English with a broken accent. ‘Icould 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 theman with a convulsive effort tore the plaster from his lips, andscreaming out ‘Sophy! Sophy!’ rushed into the woman’s arms. Theirembrace was but for an instant, however, for the younger man seizedthe woman and pushed her out of the room, while the elder easilyoverpowered his emaciated victim, and dragged him away throughthe other door. For a moment I was left alone in the room, and Isprang to my feet with some vague idea that I might in some way geta 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 manwas standing in the door-way with his eyes fixed upon me.
“ ‘That will do, Mr. Melas,’ said he. ‘You perceive that we havetaken you into our confidence over some very private business.
We should not have troubled you, only that our friend who speaksGreek and who began these negotiations has been forced to returnto the East. It was quite necessary for us to find some one to takehis 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 ahuman soul about this—one human soul, mind—well, may Godhave mercy upon your soul!”
“I cannot tell you the loathing and horror with which thisinsignificant-looking man inspired me. I could see him better nowas the lamp-light shone upon him. His features were peaky andsallow, and his little pointed beard was thready and ill-nourished.
He pushed his face forward as he spoke and his lips and eyelidswere continually twitching like a man with St. Vitus’s dance. Icould not help thinking that his strange, catchy little laugh wasalso a symptom of some nervous malady. The terror of his facelay in his eyes, however, steel gray, and glistening coldly with amalignant, inexorable cruelty in their depths.
“ ‘We shall know if you speak of this,’ said he. ‘We have our ownmeans of information. Now you will find the carriage waiting, andmy friend will see you on your way.’
“I was hurried through the hall and into the vehicle, againobtaining that momentary glimpse of trees and a garden. Mr.
Latimer followed closely at my heels, and took his place opposite tome without a word. In silence we again drove for an interminabledistance with the windows raised, until at last, just after midnight,the carriage pulled up.
“ ‘You will get down here, Mr. Melas,’ said my companion. ‘Iam sorry to leave you so far from your house, but there is noalternative. Any attempt upon your part to follow the carriage canonly end in injury to yourself.’
“He opened the door as he spoke, and I had hardly time tospring out when the coachman lashed the horse and the carriagerattled away. I looked around me in astonishment. I was on somesort of a heathy common mottled over with dark clumps of furzebushes.
Far away stretched a line of houses, with a light hereand there in the upper windows. On the other side I saw the redsignal-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 hecame 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’lljust be in time for the last to Victoria.’
“So that was the end of my adventure, Mr. Holmes. I do notknow where I was, nor whom I spoke with, nor anything save whatI have told you. But I know that there is foul play going on, and Iwant to help that unhappy man if I can. I told the whole story toMr. Mycroft Holmes next morning, and subsequently to the police.”
We all sat in silence for some little time after listening to thisextraordinary narrative. Then Sherlock looked across at his brother.
“Any steps?” he asked.
Mycroft picked up the Daily News, which was lying on the sidetable.
“ ‘Anybody supplying any information to the where-abouts of a Greekgentleman named Paul Kratides, from Athens, who is unable to speakEnglish, will be rewarded. A similar reward paid to any one givinginformation 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, turningto me. “Well, you take the case up by all means, and let me knowif you do any good.”
“Certainly,” answered my friend, rising from his chair. “I’ll let youknow, and Mr. Melas also. In the meantime, Mr. Melas, I shouldcertainly be on my guard, if I were you, for of course they mustknow through these advertisements that you have betrayed them.”
As we walked home together, Holmes stopped at a telegraphoffice and sent off several wires.
“You see, Watson,” he remarked, “our evening has been by nomeans wasted. Some of my most interesting cases have come tome in this way through Mycroft. The problem which we have justlistened to, although it can admit of but one explanation, has stillsome distinguishing features.”
“You have hopes of solving it?”
“Well, knowing as much as we do, it will be singular indeed ifwe fail to discover the rest. You must yourself have formed sometheory 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 beencarried off by the young Englishman named Harold Latimer.”
“Carried off from where?”
“Athens, perhaps.”
Sherlock Holmes shook his head. “This young man could nottalk a word of Greek. The lady could talk English fairly well.