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88thpp.com. 88thpp.com.
You want to go home, no doubt, doctor, he remarkedas we emerged. Yes, it would be as well.
And I have some business to do which will takesome hours. This business at Cobourg Square is
serious. Why serious? A considerable crime is incontemplation. I have every reason to believe
that we shall be in time to stop it. But todaybeing Saturday rather complicates matters.
I shall want your help tonight. At what time? 10will be early enough. I shall be at Baker Street
at 10. Very well. And, I say, doctor, there may besome little danger, so kindly put your army
revolver in your pocket. He waved his hand, turnedon his heel, and disappeared in an instant among
the crowd. I trust that I am not more dense thanmy neighbours, but I was always oppressed with a
sense of my own stupidity in my dealings withSherlock Holmes. Here I had heard what he had
heard, I had seen what he had seen, and yet fromhis words it was evident that he saw clearly not
only what had happened but what was about tohappen, while to me the whole business was still
confused and grotesque. As I drove home to myhouse in Kensington I thought over it all,
from the extraordinary story of the red-headedcopier of the encyclopedia down to the visit to
Saxe-Cobourg Square, and the ominous words withwhich he had parted from me. What was this
nocturnal expedition, and why should I go armed?Where were we going, and what were we to do?
I had the hint from Holmes that this smooth-facedpawnbroker's assistant was a formidable man,
a man who might play a deep game. I tried topuzzle it out, but gave it up in despair and
set the matter aside until night should bring anexplanation. It was a quarter past nine when I
started from home and made my way across the park,and so through Oxford Street to Baker Street.
Two handsomes were standing at the door, and as Ientered the passage I heard the
sound of voices from above. On entering his room,I found Holmes in animated conversation with two
men, one of whom I recognised as Peter Jones, theofficial police agent, while the other was a long,
thin, sad-faced man, with a very shiny hat andoppressively respectable frock coat.
Ha! Our party is complete, said Holmes, buttoningup his pea jacket and taking his
heavy hunting crop from the rack. Watson, I thinkyou know Mr. Jones, of Scotland Yard?
Let me introduce you to Mr. Merriweather, who isto be our companion in tonight's adventure.
We're hunting in couples again, Doctor, you see,said Jones in his consequential way.
Our friend here is a wonderful man for starting achase. All he wants is an old dog to help him to
do the running down. I hope a wild goose may notprove to be the end of our chase, observed Mr.
Merriweather gloomily. You may place considerableconfidence in Mr. Holmes, sir, said the police
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agent loftily. He has his own little methods,which are, if you won't mind my saying so,
just a little too theoretical and fantastic, buthe has the makings of a detective in him.
It is not too much to say that once or twice, asin that business of the Sholto murder and the
agri-treasure, he has been more nearly correctthan the official force. Oh, if you say so,
Mr. Jones, it is all right, said the stranger withdeference. Still, I confess that I miss my rubber.
It is the first Saturday night for seven andtwenty years that I have not had my rubber.
I think you will find, said Sherlock Holmes, thatyou will play for a higher stake tonight than you
have ever done yet, and that the play will be moreexciting. For you, Mr. Merriweather, the
stake will be some thirty thousand pounds, and foryou, Jones, it will be the man upon whom you
wish to lay your hands. John Clay, the murderer,thief, smasher, and forger. He's a young man,
Mr. Merriweather, but he is at the head of hisprofession, and I would rather have my bracelets
on him than on any criminal in London. He's aremarkable man, is young John Clay. Hisgrandfather
was a royal duke, and he himself has been to Etonand Oxford. His brain is as cunning as hisfingers,
and though we meet signs of him at every turn, wenever know where to find the man himself.
He'll crack a crib in Scotland one week, and beraising money to build an orphanage in Cornwall
the next. I've been on his track for years andhave never set eyes on him yet. I hope that I
may have the pleasure of introducing you tonight.I've had one or two little turns also with Mr.
John Clay, and I agree with you that he is at thehead of his profession. It is past ten,
however, and quite time that we started. If youtwo will take the first handsome,
Watson and I will follow in the second." SherlockHolmes was not very communicative
during the long drive and lay back in the cabhumming the tunes which he had heard in the
afternoon. We rattled through an endless labyrinthof gas-lit streets until we emerged intoFarrington
Street. We are close there now, my friendremarked. This fellow Merriweather is a bankdirector,
and personally interested in the matter. I thoughtit as well to have Jones with us also.
He is not a bad fellow, though an absoluteimbecile in his profession. He has one positive
virtue. He is as brave as a bulldog and astenacious as a lobster if he gets his claws
upon anyone. Here we are, and they are waiting forus. We had reached the same crowded thoroughfare
in which we had found ourselves in the morning.Our cabs were dismissed, and, following the
guidance of Mr. Merriweather, we passed down anarrow passage and through a side door,
which he opened for us. Within there was a smallcorridor, which ended in a very massive iron gate.
This also was opened, and led down a flight ofwinding stone steps,
which terminated at another formidable gate. Mr.Merriweather stopped to light a lantern,
and then conducted us down a dark, earth-smellingpassage, and so, after opening a third door,
into a huge vault or cellar, which was piled allround with crates and massive boxes.
You are not very vulnerable from above, Holmesremarked as he held up the lantern and gazed
about him. Nor from below, said Mr. Merriweather,striking his stick upon the flags which lined the
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floor. Why, dear me, it sounds quite hollow! heremarked, looking up in surprise.
I must really ask you to be a little more quiet,said Holmes severely. You have already imperiled
the whole success of our expedition. Might I begthat you would have the goodness to sit down upon
one of those boxes, and not to interfere? Thesolemn Mr. Merriweather perched himself upon a
crate, with a very injured expression upon hisface, while Holmes fell upon his knees upon the
floor and, with the lantern and a magnifying lens,began to examine minutely the cracks between the
stones. A few seconds sufficed to satisfy him, forhe sprang to his feet again and put his glass in
his pocket. We have at least an hour before us, heremarked, for they can hardly take any steps
until the good pawnbroker is safely in bed. Thenthey will not lose a minute, for the sooner they
do their work the longer time they will have fortheir escape. We are at present, doctor, as no
doubt you have divined, in the cellar of the citybranch of one of the principal London banks.
Mr. Merriweather is the chairman of directors, andhe will explain to you that there are reasons
why the more daring criminals of London shouldtake a considerable interest in this cellar at
present. It is our French gold, whispered thedirector. We have had several warnings that an
attempt might be made upon it. Your French gold?Yes. We had occasion some months ago to
strengthen our resources and borrowed for thatpurpose 30,000 Napoleons from the Bank of France.
It has become known that we have never hadoccasion to unpack the money, and that it is
still lying in our cellar. The crate upon which Isit contains 2,000 Napoleons packed between layers
of lead foil. Our reserve of bullion is muchlarger at present than is usually kept in a
single branch office, and the directors have hadmisgivings upon the subject. Which were very well
justified, observed Holmes. And now it is timethat we arranged our little plans. I expect that
within an hour matters will come to a head. In themeantime Mr. Merriweather, we must put the
screen over that dark lantern. And sit in thedark? I am afraid so. I had brought a pack ofcards in my
pocket, and I thought that, as we were a partycarré, you might have your rubber after all.
But I see that the enemy's preparations have goneso far that we cannot risk the presence of alight.
And, first of all, we must choose our positions.These are daring men, and though we shall take
them at a disadvantage, they may do us some harmunless we are careful. I shall stand behind this
crate, and you conceal yourselves behind those.Then, when I flash a light upon them, close and
swiftly. If they fire, Watson, have no compunctionabout shooting them down. I placed my revolver,
cocked, upon the top of the wooden case behindwhich I crouched. Holmes shot the slide across the
front of his lantern and left us in pitchdarkness, such an absolute darkness as I havenever before
experienced. The smell of hot metal remained toassure us that the light was still there,
ready to flash out at a moment's notice. To me,with my nerves worked up to a pitch of expectancy,
there was something depressing and subduing in thesudden gloom, and in the cold dank air of the
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vault. They have but one retreat, whisperedHolmes. That is back through the house into
Saxe-Coburg Square. I hope that you have done whatI asked you, Jones. I have an inspector and
two officers waiting at the front door. Then wehave stopped all the holes. And now we must be
silent and wait. What a time it seemed. Fromcomparing notes afterwards it was but an hour
and a quarter, yet it appeared to me that thenight must have almost gone, and the dawn be
breaking above us. My limbs were weary and stiff,for I feared to change my position, yet my nerves
were worked up to the highest pitch of tension,and my hearing was so acute that I could not only
hear the gentle breathing of my companions, but Icould distinguish the deeper, heavier in breath of
the bulky Jones from the thin, sighing note of thebank director. From my position I could look over
the case in the direction of the floor. Suddenlymy eyes caught the glint of a light. At first it
was but a lurid spark upon the stone pavement.Then it lengthened out until it became a yellowline,
and then, without any warning or sound, a gashseemed to open and a hand appeared,
a white, almost womanly hand, which felt about inthe centre of the little area of light.
For a minute or more the hand, with its writhingfingers, protruded out of the floor. Then it was
withdrawn as suddenly as it appeared, and all wasdark again save the single lurid spark which
marked a chink between the stones. Itsdisappearance, however, was but momentary.
With a rending, tearing sound, one of the broad,white stones turned over upon its side and left
a square, gaping hole, through which streamed thelight of a lantern. Over the edge there peeped a
clean-cut, boyish face, which looked keenly aboutit, and then, with a hand on either side of the
aperture, drew itself shoulder-high and waist-high, until one knee rested upon the edge.
In another instant he stood at the side of thehole and was hauling after him a companion,
lithe and small like himself, with a pale face anda shock of very red hair.
It's all clear, he whispered. Have you the chiseland the bags?
Great Scott! Jump, Archie, jump, and I'll swingfor it.
Sherlock Holmes had sprung out and seized theintruder by the collar. The other dived down the
hole, and I heard the sound of rending cloth asJones clutched at his skirts. The light flashed
upon the barrel of a revolver, but Holmes' huntingcrop came down on the man's wrist,
and the pistol clinked upon the stone floor.
It's no use, John Clay, said Holmes blandly. Youhave no chance at all.
So I see, the other answered with the utmostcoolness. I fancy that my pal is all right,
though I see you have got his coattails. There arethree men waiting for him at the door,
said Holmes. Oh, indeed! You seem to have done thething very completely. I must compliment you.
And I you, Holmes answered. Your red-headed ideawas very new and effective. You'll see
your pal again presently, said Jones. He's quickerat climbing down holes than I am.
Just hold out while I fix the derbies.
I beg that you will not touch me with your filthyhands, remarked our prisoner as the
handcuffs clattered upon his wrists. You may notbe aware that I have royal blood in my veins.
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Have the goodness, also, when you address mealways to say sir and please.
All right, said Jones with a stare and a snigger.Well, would you please, sir, march upstairs,
where we can get a cab to carry your highness tothe police station.
That is better, said John Clay serenely. He made asweeping bow to the three of us and
walked quietly off in the custody of thedetective. Really, Mr. Holmes, said Mr.Merriweather as we
follow them from the cellar, I do not know how thebank can thank you or repay you.
There is no doubt that you have detected anddefeated in the most complete manner one of
the most determined attempts at bank robbery thathave ever come within my experience.
I have had one or two little scores of my own tosettle with Mr. John Clay, said Holmes. I have
been at some small expense over this matter, whichI shall expect the bank to refund, but beyond that
I am amply repaid by having had an experiencewhich is in many ways unique, and by hearing the
very remarkable narrative of the redheaded league.You see, Watson, he explained in the early hoursof
the morning as we sat over a glass of whiskey andsoda in Baker Street, it was perfectly obviousfrom
the first that the only possible object of thisrather fantastic business of the advertisement of
the league, and the copying of the encyclopedia,must be to get this not-over-bright pawnbroker out
of the way for a number of hours every day. It wasa curious way of managing it, but, really,
it would be difficult to suggest a better. Themethod was no doubt suggested to Clay's ingenious
mind by the colour of his accomplice's hair. Thefour pounds a week was a lure which must draw him,
and what was it to them, who were playing forthousands? They put in the advertisement,
one rogue has the temporary office, the otherrogue incites the man to apply for it,
and together they managed to secure his absenceevery morning in the week.
From the time that I heard of the assistant havingcome for half wages, it was obvious to
me that he had some strong motive for securing thesituation. But how could you guess what the
motive was? Had there been women in the house, Ishould have suspected a mere vulgar intrigue.
That, however, was out of the question. The man'sbusiness was a small one, and there was nothing
in his house which could account for suchelaborate preparations, and such an expenditure asthey
were at. It must, then, be something out of thehouse. What could it be? I thought of the
assistant's fondness for photography, and histrick of vanishing into the cellar. The cellar!
There was the end of this tangled clue. Then Imade inquiries as to this mysterious assistant
and found that I had to deal with one of thecoolest and most daring criminals in London.
He was doing something in the cellar, somethingwhich took many hours a day for months on end.
What could it be, once more? I could think ofnothing save that he was running a tunnel to
some other building. So far I had got when we wentto visit the scene of action.
I surprised you by beating upon the pavement withmy stick. I was ascertaining whether the cellar
stretched out in front or behind. It was not infront. Then I rang the bell, and, as I hoped,
the assistant answered it. We have had someskirmishes, but we had never set eyes upon
each other before. I hardly looked at his face.His knees were what I wished to see.
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You must yourself have remarked how worn,wrinkled, and stained they were.
They spoke of those hours of burrowing. The onlyremaining point was what they were burrowing for.
I walked round the corner, saw the city andsuburban bank abutted on our friend's premises,
and felt that I had solved my problem. When youdrove home after the concert I called upon
Scotland Yard and upon the chairman of the bankdirectors, with the result that you have seen.
And how could you tell that they would make theirattempt tonight? I asked.
Well, when they closed their league offices thatwas a sign that they cared no longer
about Mr. Jabez Wilson's presence, in other words,that they had completed their tunnel.
But it was essential that they should use it soon,as it might be discovered,
or the bullion might be removed. Saturday wouldsuit them better than any other day,
as it would give them two days for their escape.For all these reasons I expected them to come
tonight. You reasoned it out beautifully, Iexclaimed in unfeigned admiration. It is so long
a chain, and yet every link rings true. It savedme from ennui, he answered, yawning. Alas! Ialready
feel it closing in upon me. My life is spent inone long effort to escape from the common
places of existence. These little problems help meto do so. And you are a benefactor of the race,
said I. He shrugged his shoulders. Well, perhaps,after all, it is of some little use, he remarked.
L'homme sait rien, l'ouvre sait tout, as GustaveFlaubert wrote to George Sand.
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