Must keep them,’ said he, ‘for they are so technical that it isimpossible in the time to make copies.’ ‘Then they must all goback together tonight,’ said I. He thought for a little, and then hecried out that he had it. ‘Three I will keep,’ said he. ‘The otherswe will stuff into the pocket of this young man. When he is foundthe whole business will assuredly be put to his account.’ I couldsee no other way out of it, so we did as he suggested. We waitedhalf an hour at the window before a train stopped. It was so thickthat nothing could be seen, and we had no difficulty in loweringWest’s body on to the train. That was the end of the matter so faras I was concerned.”
“And your brother?”
“He said nothing, but he had caught me once with his keys, andthink that he suspected. I read in his eyes that he suspected. Asyou know, he never held up his head again.”
There was silence in the room. It was broken by MycroftHolmes.
“Can you not make reparation? It would ease your conscience,and possibly your punishment.”
“What reparation can I make?”
“Where is Oberstein with the papers?”
“I do not know.”
“Did he give you no address?”
“He said that letters to the Hotel du Louvre, Paris, wouldeventually reach him.”
“Then reparation is still within your power,” said SherlockHolmes.
“I will do anything I can. I owe this fellow no particular goodwill.
He has been my ruin and my downfall.”
“Here are paper and pen. Sit at this desk and write to mydictation. Direct the envelope to the address given. That is right.
Now the letter:
“Dear Sir:
The Adventure of Wisteria Lodge 1169
“With regard to our transaction, you will no doubt haveobserved by now that one essential detail is missing. I have atracing which will make it complete. This has involved me inextra trouble, however, and I must ask you for a further advanceof five hundred pounds. I will not trust it to the post, nor will Itake anything but gold or notes. I would come to you abroad, butit would excite remark if I left the country at present. ThereforeI shall expect to meet you in the smoking-room of the CharingCross Hotel at noon on Saturday. Remember that only Englishnotes, or gold, will be taken.
That will do very well. I shall be very much surprised if it doesnot fetch our man.”
And it did! It is a matter of history—that secret history of anation which is often so much more intimate and interesting thanits public chronicles—that Oberstein, eager to complete the coupof his lifetime, came to the lure and was safely engulfed for fifteenyears in a British prison. In his trunk were found the invaluableBruce-Partington plans, which he had put up for auction in all thenaval centres of Europe.
Colonel Walter died in prison towards the end of the secondyear of his sentence. As to Holmes, he returned refreshed to hismonograph upon the Polyphonic Motets of Lassus, which hassince been printed for private circulation, and is said by expertsto be the last word upon the subject. Some weeks afterwardsI learned incidentally that my friend spent a day at Windsor,whence he returned with a remarkably fine emerald tie-pin. WhenI asked him if he had bought it, he answered that it was a presentfrom a certain gracious lady in whose interests he had once beenfortunate enough to carry out a small commission. He said nomore; but I fancy that I could guess at that lady’s august name,and I have little doubt that the emerald pin will forever recall tomy friend’s memory the adventure of the Bruce-Partington plans.
The Adventure of the Dying Detective
Mrs. Hudson, the landlady of Sherlock Holmes, was a longsufferingwoman. Not only was her first-floor flat invaded at allhours by throngs of singular and often undesirable characters buther remarkable lodger showed an eccentricity and irregularity inhis life which must have sorely tried her patience. His incredibleuntidiness, his addiction to music at strange hours, his occasionalrevolver practice within doors, his weird and often malodorousscientific experiments, and the atmosphere of violence and dangerwhich hung around him made him the very worst tenant in London.
The Complete Sherlock Holmes
On the other hand, his payments were princely. I have no doubtthat the house might have been purchased at the price whichHolmes paid for his rooms during the years that I was with him.
The landlady stood in the deepest awe of him and never daredto interfere with him, however outrageous his proceedingsmight seem. She was fond of him, too, for he had a remarkablegentleness and courtesy in his dealings with women. He dislikedand distrusted the sex, but he was always a chivalrous opponent.
Knowing how genuine was her regard for him, I listened earnestlyto her story when she came to my rooms in the second year of mymarried life and told me of the sad condition to which my poorfriend was reduced.
“He’s dying, Dr. Watson,” said she. “For three days he has beensinking, and I doubt if he will last the day. He would not let me getdoctor. This morning when I saw his bones sticking out of hisface and his great bright eyes looking at me I could stand no moreof it. ‘With your leave or without it, Mr. Holmes, I am going fordoctor this very hour,’ said I. ‘Let it be Watson, then,’ said he. Iwouldn’t waste an hour in coming to him, sir, or you may not seehim alive.”
I was horrified for I had heard nothing of his illness. I neednot say that I rushed for my coat and my hat. As we drove back Iasked for the details.
“There is little I can tell you, sir. He has been working at a casedown at Rotherhithe, in an alley near the river, and he has broughtthis illness back with him. He took to his bed on Wednesdayafternoon and has never moved since. For these three days neitherfood nor drink has passed his lips.”
“Good God! Why did you not call in a doctor?”
“He wouldn’t have it, sir. You know how masterful he is. I didn’tdare to disobey him. But he’s not long for this world, as you’ll seefor yourself the moment that you set eyes on him.”
