Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1905-09-12

conclusions, YOU departed for the hotel,
and l was left alone. had imagined
that had reached the end Of my ad-
ventures. but very unexpected occur
renee showed me that there were sur
prises still in store for me. A huge
rock, falling from above. doomed past
me- struck the path and bounded over
| into the chasm. For an instant I
thought that 1t was an accident, but a
moment later, looking up, I saw
mans head against the darkening sky,
and another stone struck the very
ledge upon which. I was stretched
within foot of my head. OF course
the meaning of this was obvious. Mo-
riarty had not been alone. A confeder-
ate-and even that one glance had told
me how dangerous man that confed-
crate was-had kept guard while the
professor had attacked me. From a
distance. unseen by me, he had been
witness of his friends death and Of
my escape. He had waited, and then.
making his way around to the top Of
the cliff, he had endeavored to succeed
where his comrade had failed.
81 did not take long to think about 1t,
Watson. Again saw that grim face
look over the cliff, and knew that 1t
was the precursor Of another stone.
| I scrambled down on to the path.
don't think could have done 1t in cold
blood. 1t was hundred times more
difficult than getting up. But l had no
time to think of the danger, for an
other stone sang past me as l hung by
my hands from the edge Of the ledge.
Halfway down I slipped; but, by the
| blessing of God, landed, torn and
bleeding, upon the path. l took to my
heels, die ten miles over the noun
| tains in the darkness, and a week later
/ found myself in Florence, with the
certainty that no one in the world
knew what had become OF me.
IL had only one contidant-my broth
err Mycroft owe you many apologies.
my ue1r w NdtSoll, Dut IL N''S All ii'poA
tant that it should be thought l was
dead. and it IL quite certain that you
would not have written so convincing
an account Of my unhappy end had you
not Yourself thought that 1t was true.
| Several times during the last three
years have taken up my pen to write
to YOU. but always l feared lest your
affectiOnate regard for me should tempt
YOU to some indiscretiOn which would
betray my secret. For that reason |
turned away from you this evening
when you upset my books, for was in
danger ut the time, and any show OF
surprise and emotion upon your part
might have drawn attention to my
identity and led to the most deplorable
and ilreparable results. As to Mycroft,
| I had to contde in him in order to OBJ
tain the money which / needed. The
course Of events in London did not run
so well as had hoped, for the trial OF
the Moriarty gang left two of its most
dangerous members, my own most vim
dictive enemies, ut liberty. l Travelled
for two years in Tibet, therefore, and
amused myself by visiting Lassa and
spending some days with the head
lama. You may have read Of the re-
markable explorations Of Norwegian
named Sigerson. but l am sure that 1t
never occurred to you that you were
receiving news Of your friend. l then
passed through Persia, looked In ut
Mecca and paid short but interesting
visit to the khalifa ut Khartum. the re-
suits Of which l have communicated
to the foreign Office. Returning to
France, spent some months in re-
search into the coal tar derivatives,
which l conducted in laboratory at
Montpelier, in the south Of France.
Having concluded this to my satisfac-
ton and learning that only one Of my
enemies was now left in London. was
about to return when my movements
were hastened by the news Of this very
remarkable Park lane mystery, which
not only appealed to me by its own
merits, but which seemed to offer some
most peculiar personal opportunities.
came over at once to London, called
in my own person ut Baker street,
threw Mrs. Hudson into violent hys-
terics and found that Mycroft had pre-
served my rooms and my papers exact
" rs they had always been. So it was,
my dear Watson, that Mt 2 o'clock to-
day found myself in my old arm
chair in my own old room and only
wishing that could have seen my ola
friend Watson in the other chair which
he has so often adorned"
Such was the remarkable narrative
10 which listened on that April even
ing, narrative which would have
been utterly incredible to me had 1t not
been confirmed by the actual sight OF
the tall, spare figure and the keen, ea-
ger face, which had never thought to
see again. In some manner he had
learned Of my own sad bereavement,
and his sympathy was shown in his
manner rather than in his words.
"Work Is the best antidote to sorrow,
nv dear Watson" said he, 'and have
piece Of work for us both tonight
which IL we can bring 1t to success
full conclusion will in itself justify a
mans life on this planet" In vain
begged him to tell me more. you will
hear and see enough before morning.
he answered. 1--WE have three years OF
the past to discuss. Let that suffice un'
til half past o, when we start unon the
notable adventure Of the empty house. y
1t was indeed like old times when at
that hour found myself seated beside
him in hanson, my revolver in m!
pocket and the thrill of adventure Ill
my heart. Holmes was cold and stern
and silent. AS the gleam of the stree'
lamps flashed upon his austere features
saw that his brOws were drawn down
,, in thought and his thin lips compressed
knew not what wild beasts we were
about to hunt down in the dark jungle
of criminal London, but was well as
| -, r.o,,> &I,o hoo riuV Nf this master