I expected something definite by this time. Wiggins has just beenup to report. He says that no trace can be found of the launch. It isa provoking check, for every hour is of importance.”
“Can I do anything? I am perfectly fresh now, and quite readyfor another night’s outing.”
“No; we can do nothing. We can only wait. If we go ourselvesthe message might come in our absence and delay be caused. Youcan do what you will, but I must remain on guard.”
“Then I shall run over to Camberwell and call upon Mrs. CecilForrester. She asked me to, yesterday.”
“On Mrs. Cecil Forrester?” asked Holmes with the twinkle of asmile in his eyes.
“Well, of course on Miss Morstan, too. They were anxious tohear what happened.”
“I would not tell them too much,” said Holmes. “Women arenever 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 youmay as well return Toby, for I don’t think it is at all likely that weshall have any use for him now.”
I took our mongrel accordingly and left him, together witha half-sovereign, at the old naturalist’s in Pinchin Lane. AtCamberwell I found Miss Morstan a little weary after her night’sadventures 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, althoughI spoke of Mr. Sholto’s death, I said nothing of the exact mannerand method of it. With all my omissions, however, there wasenough to startle and amaze them.
“It is a romance!” cried Mrs. Forrester. “An injured lady, half amillion 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 Morstanwith 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 imaginewhat 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 showedno sign of elation at the prospect. On the contrary, she gave a tossof her proud head, as though the matter were one in which shetook 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 hasbehaved most kindly and honorably throughout. It is our duty toclear him of this dreadful and unfounded charge.”
It was evening before I left Camberwell, and quite dark by thetime I reached home. My companion’s book and pipe lay by hischair, but he had disappeared. I looked about in the hope of seeinga note, but there was none.
“I suppose that Mr. Sherlock Holmes has gone out,” I said toMrs. Hudson as she came up to lower the blinds.
“No, sir. He has gone to his room, sir. Do you know, sir,” sinkingher voice into an impressive whisper, “I am afraid for his health?”
“Why so, Mrs. Hudson?”
“Well, he’s that strange, sir. After you was gone he walked andhe walked, up and down, and up and down, until I was weary ofthe sound of his footstep. Then I heard him talking to himselfand muttering, and every time the bell rang out he came on thestairhead, with ‘What is that, Mrs. Hudson?’ And now he hasslammed off to his room, but I can hear him walking away thesame as ever. I hope he’s not going to be ill, sir. I ventured to saysomething to him about cooling medicine, but he turned on me,sir, with such a look that I don’t know how ever I got out of theroom.”
“I don’t think that you have any cause to be uneasy, Mrs.
Hudson,” I answered. “I have seen him like this before. He hassome small matter upon his mind which makes him restless.”
I tried to speak lightly to our worthy landlady, but I was myselfsomewhat uneasy when through the long night I still from timeto time heard the dull sound of his tread, and knew how his keenspirit was chafing against this involuntary inaction.
At breakfast-time he looked worn and haggard, with a littlefleck of feverish color upon either cheek.
“You are knocking yourself up, old man,” I remarked. “I heardyou marching about in the night.”
“No, I could not sleep,” he answered. “This infernal problem isconsuming me. It is too much to be balked by so petty an obstacle,when all else had been overcome. I know the men, the launch,everything; and yet I can get no news. I have set other agenciesat work and used every means at my disposal. The whole river hasbeen searched on either side, but there is no news, nor has Mrs.Smith heard of her husband. I shall come to the conclusion soonthat they have scuttled the craft. But there are objections to that.”
“Or that Mrs. Smith has put us on a wrong scent.”
“No, I think that may be dismissed. I had inquiries made, andthere is a launch of that deion.”
“Could it have gone up the river?”
“I have considered that possibility, too, and there is a searchpartywho will work up as far as Richmond. If no news comes todayI shall start off myself tomorrow and go for the men ratherthan the boat. But surely, surely, we shall hear something.”
We did not, however. Not a word came to us either fromWiggins or from the other agencies. There were articles in mostof the papers upon the Norwood tragedy. They all appeared tobe rather hostile to the unfortunate Thaddeus Sholto. No freshdetails were to be found, however, in any of them, save that aninquest was to be held upon the following day. I walked over toCamberwell in the evening to report our ill-success to the ladies,and on my return I found Holmes dejected and somewhat morose.
He would hardly reply to my questions and busied himself all theevening in an abstruse chemical analysis which involved muchheating of retorts and distilling of vapors, ending at last in a smellwhich fairly drove me out of the apartment. Up to the small hoursof the morning I could hear the clinking of his test-tubes whichtold me that he was still engaged in his malodorous experiment.