The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes

e scattered gas-lamps. The footpaths are narrow, and the causeway is paved with rounded cobblestones so that the endless drays roar along it like so many breaking waves. A

opean reputation can afford to live where he likes. In his particular br

eaked and dripping glass, throwing little yellow circles upon the glistening cobblestones. The air was full of the sounds of rain, the thin swish of its fall, the heavier drip from the eaves, and the swirl

ar-cut face, with some subtle, nameless peculiarity in its expression-something of the startled horse in the white-rimmed eye, something, too, of the helpless child in the drawn

e doct

n hesi

, sir. He does not like to be distu

card." He fumbled with his trembling fingers in trying to draw one from the case. "Sir Franc

nied it. "Better hang your coat up here in the hall. It is very wet. Now, if you will wait h

mbre, with broad gold lettering upon their backs. Beside him was the high, old-fashioned mantelpiece of white marble, the top of it strewed with cotton wadding and bandages, graduated measures and little bottles. There was one with a broad neck, just above him, containing bluestone, and another narrower one with what looked like the ruins of a broken pipe stem, and "Caustic" outside upon a red label. Thermometers, hypodermic syringes, bistouries and spatulas we

e labels of some of the phials-nothing was too slight to arrest his attention. And his sense of hearing was equally alert. The heavy ticking of the solemn black clock above the fireplace struck quite painfully upon his ears. Yet, in spite of it, and in spite also of the thick, old-fashioned, wooden partition walls, he could hear the voices of men talking in the next room and could even catch scraps of their co

mouth was too good to cover, large, flexible and sensitive, with a kindly human softening at either corner, which, with his brown, sympathetic eyes, had drawn out many a shame-struck sinner's secret. Two masterful little bushy side whiskers bristled out from under his ears, spindling away upwards to merge in the thick curves of his brindled hair.

rceive. A host to his guests and an adviser to his patient. But now I am

I am

his will never do. This miserable night has

not. And it is not the night which has

patted the arch of the young man's knee

g over his shoulder at the pal

urning up the right leg of his trousers he pulled down his sock and thrust forwa

h le

only

dde

morn

his finger and thumb down the line of his ch

N

ess came into the

o you that unless the m

sprang fro

ich to reproach myself. Do you think that I would be such a fool as to

olled to his knee, and that ever-present horror still lurking in his eyes. A burst of merri

tooped and ran his finger down the line of the young man's shin, raising it at o

ve been a l

them, and again made the gentle clickin

the patient's eye. As he did so a glow of pleasure came over his large, expressive face, a flush of such enthusiasm as the botanist feels w

wn a few memoranda upon a sheet of paper. "Curiously enough I am writing a monograph upon t

ed an almost congratulatory air towards its possessor. He revert

. "If, for example, I were to say that you have interstitial keratitis, how would you be the wiser? There are in

octor sprang to a side table and poured out a half glass of liqueur brandy which he held

or. "But you must have known the nature of your co

only to-day when my leg grew ba

from him

u have heard of Sir Rupert N

e vile set with whom he consorted had shrunk away from him in horror, and left him to a sinister old age with the barmaid wife whom in some drunken frolic he had espoused. As he looked at the young man still leaning back in the leather chair, there seemed for the instant to f

told, but not more horribly than he had lived. My father was his only son. He was a studiou

were cutaneous

He used to ask me so often about my own health, and I thought him so fussy, for how could I tell what the meaning of i

rothers or

thank

ch come in my way. You are no lonely sufferer, Sir Francis.

music and poetry and art. The coarse and animal is abhorrent to me. Ask any of my friends and they would tell you that. And now that this vile, loathsome thing-Ach, I am polluted to the marrow, soaked in abomination! And why? Haven't I a right to ask why? Did I do it? Was it my fault? Could I

hands upon his shoulders he pres

evolved creatures in a transition stage; nearer, perhaps, to the medusa on the one side than to perfected humanity on the other. With half a complete brain we can't expect to understand the whole of a

et gave a cry of im

s. Mine is putrid. And yet I am as innocent as you. What would words do for you if you were in this chair and I in that? Ah, it's such a mockery and a make-belief. Don't think me rude, thou

rs together in an ag

sir. I have every

as spent itself on me? Do you think if

on,' says the trite old text. You may in time eliminate it from you

d on Tuesday," whi

nsation to his well-seasoned nerves. He sat in silence while the babble of the card-table broke in again upon them. "

ed the doctor severe

onvulsively. "You are a man of the world, Doctor Selby. You have seen or heard of such things before. Give me so

ned into two straight lines and

ge must not

hat am

s it must no

ust give

e no questio

it a small photograph, holding it out towards the

t more now that I have seen that. But there is no alt

lf! But realise it, man! I am to be married on Tuesday-this coming Tuesday, you know. And a

e done. My dear sir, the

break the engagement at this last moment wi

d the doctor thoughtfully. "His device was a singular one. He deliberately committed a penal

aronet shoo

ed," said he. "I have little else lef

ice dilemma and the c

no other s

n to have proper

on

u have

es

o. Then you might write to say that urgent business affairs have compelled you to start a

t think of her position-the house full of wedding presents-guests com

shrugged hi

note of a few lines. Then, with a sudden impulse, he tore it to shreds and flung it into the fireplace. "No, I can't sit down and tell her a lie, doctor," said he rising. "We must find some other way out of this

these powders every morning and the chemist will put all directions upon the ointment box. You are placed in

rrow m

street. You have your waterproof there. You w

through the yellow splotches of the gas-lamps and into the broad bars of darkness between. It was but his own shadow which trailed up the wall as he passed t

ted. A paragraph in the Daily News caused him to push away his breakfast untasted, and turned hi

ng character, and he expired while being conveyed to the hospital. An examination of his pocket-book and card-case shows beyond any question that the deceased is none other than Sir Francis Norton of Deane Park, who has only within the last year come into the baronetcy. The accident is made the more deplorable as the deceased,