The Valley of Fear
Wa
ned to thin
Sherlock Holmes re
uffering of mortals; but I'll admit that I
I severely, "you are a
d, with his untasted breakfast before him, and he stared at the slip of paper which he had just drawn from its envelop
iting, though I have seen it only twice before. The Greek e with the peculiar top flourish i
to me; but my vexation disappeared in
is Porlock
among the teeming millions of this great city. Porlock is important, not for himself, but for the great man with whom he is in touch. Picture to yourself the pilot fish with the shark, the jackal with the lion-anything that
ic criminal, as famo
" Holmes murmured in
ay, as he is unkn
rworld, a brain which might have made or marred the destiny of nations-that's the man! But so aloof is he from general suspicion, so immune from criticism, so admirable in his management and self-effacement, that for those very words that you have uttered he could hale you to a court and emerge with your year's pension as a solatium for his wounded character. Is he not the celebrate
laimed devoutly. "But you were
its great attachment. Porlock is not quite a sound link-between ourselves
stronger than i
of an occasional ten-pound note sent to him by devious methods, he has once or twice given me advance information which has been of value-that highest value which an
ed plate. I rose and, leaning over him, stared dow
127 36 31
9 293 5 37
STONE 9
u make of i
attempt to convey
of a cipher message
nstance, n
say 'in this
such crude devices amuse the intelligence without fatiguing it. But this is different. It is clearly a r
uglas' and '
words which were not contai
he not indic
in the same envelope. Should it miscarry, you are undone. As it is, both have to go wrong before any harm comes from it. Our second post is now overdue, and
few minutes by the appearance of Billy, the pag
igned," he added in an exultant voice as he unfolded the epistle. "Come, we are
son, that all our expectations come to nothing. I
HOLMES [
fter I had actually addressed this envelope with the intention of sending you the key to the cipher. I was able to cover it up. If he had s
POR
ng this letter between his fingers, an
may be only his guilty conscience. Knowing himself to be a t
, I presume, Pro
out 'He' you know whom they mean. There
at can
, there are infinite possibilities. Anyhow, Friend Porlock is evidently scared out of his senses-kindly compare the writing in the note t
t all? Why did he n
me inquiry after him in that case,
bending my brows over it. "It's pretty maddening to think that an important secret ma
s. "I wonder!" said he, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. "Perhaps there are points which have escaped your Machiavellian in
what va
ocus my mind upon it, it seems rather less impene
on
hypothesis that 534 is the particular page to which the cipher refers. So our book has already become a large book which is surely some
he second,
, the number of the chapter is immaterial. Also that if page 534 finds us only in
n!" I
, we begin to visualize a large book printed in double columns which are each of a considerable length, since one of the w
that w
tead of that, he had intended, before his plans were nipped, to send me the clue in this envelope. He says so in his note. This would seem to indicate that the book is
certainly soun
search to a large book, printed in
" I cried t
less likely to lie at the elbow of one of Moriarty's associates. Besides, the editions of Holy Writ are so numerous that he could hardly suppose that two cop
oks would corres
earch is narrowed down to standardized book
ads
The selection of words would hardly lend itself to the sending of general messages. We will eli
alma
, quite garrulous towards the end." He picked the volume from his desk. "Here is page 534, column two, a substantial block of print dealing, I perceive, with the trade and resources of British India. Jot down the words, Watson! Number thirteen is 'Mahratta.' Not, I fear, a very auspicious beginni
tion. I sat helpless and unhappy, staring into the fire. A long silence was broken by a sudden exclamation f
planation been written. Now let us see what page 534 has in store for us. Number thirteen is 'There,' which is much more promising. Number one hundred and twenty-seven is 'is'-'There is'"-Holmes's eyes were gleaming with excitement, and his thin, nervous fingers twitched as he counted the words-"'danger.' Ha! Ha! Capital!
hich I had scrawled, as he deciphered
ling way of expressin
nt. You are bound to leave something to the intelligence of your correspondent. The purport is perfectly clear. Some deviltry is intended against one Douglas, whoever he may be, residing as st
hen it fell below the high level to which he aspired. He was still chuckling over his success wh
ve force, who had distinguished himself in several cases which had been entrusted to him. His tall, bony figure gave promise of exceptional physical strength, while his great cranium and deep-s
ed them by the frankness with which he consulted Holmes in every difficulty. Mediocrity knows nothing higher than itself; but talent instantly recognizes genius, and MacDonald had talent enough for his profession to enable him to perceive that
"I wish you luck with your worm. I fear thi
a knowing grin. "Well, maybe a wee nip would keep out the raw morning chill. No, I won't smoke, I thank you. I'll have to b
look of absolute amazement at a paper upon the table. It wa
Mr. Holmes? Man, it's witchcraft! Where in the nam
d I have had occasion to solve. Bu
astonishment. "Just this," said he, "that Mr. Douglas of