night? was it his profile that was seen on
the blind two nights before? no, no, hopkins; it is
another and a more formidable person for whom we must seek."
the detective's face had grown longer and longer during
holmes's speech. his hopes and his ambitions were all
crumbling about him. but he would not abandon his position
without a struggle.
"you can't deny that neligan was present that night,
mr. holmes. the book will prove that. i fancy that i have
evidence enough to satisfy a jury, even if you are able to
pick a hole in it. besides, mr. holmes, i have laid my
hand upon _my_ man. as to this terrible person of yours,
where is he?"
"i rather fancy that he is on the stair," said holmes,
serenely. "i think, watson, that you would do well to put
that revolver where you can reach it." he rose, and laid a
written paper upon a side-table. "now we are ready," said he.
there had been some talking in gruff voices outside, and
now mrs. hudson opened the door to say that there were
three men inquiring for captain basil.
"show them in one by one," said holmes.
the first who entered was a little ribston-pippin of a man,
with ruddy cheeks and fluffy white side-whiskers. holmes
had drawn a letter from his pocket.
"what name?" he asked.
"james lancaster."
"i am sorry, lancaster, but the berth is full. here is
half a sovereign for your trouble. just step into this
room and wait there for a few minutes."
the second man was a long, dried-up creature, with lank
hair and sallow cheeks. his name was hugh pattins. he
also received his dismissal, his half-sovereign, and the
order to wait.
the third applicant was a man of remarkable appearance.
a fierce, bull-dog face was framed in a tangle of hair and
beard, and two bold dark eyes gleamed behind the cover of
thick, tufted, overhung eyebrows. he saluted and stood
sailor-fashion, turning his cap round in his hands.
"your name?" asked holmes.
"patrick cairns."
"harpooner?"
"yes, sir. twenty-six voyages."
"dundee, i suppose?"
"yes, sir."
"and ready to start with an exploring ship?"
"yes, sir."
"what wages?"
"eight pounds a month."
"could you start at once?"
"as soon as i get my kit."
"have you your papers?"
"yes, sir." he took a sheaf of worn and greasy forms from
his pocket. holmes glanced over them and returned them.
"you are just the man i want," said he. "here's the
agreement on the side-table. if you sign it the whole
matter will be settled."
the seaman lurched across the room and took up the pen.
"shall i sign here?" he asked, stooping over the table.
holmes leaned over his shoulder and passed both hands over
his neck.
"this will do," said he.
i heard a click of steel and a bellow like an enraged bull.
the next instant holmes and the seaman were rolling on the
ground together. he was a man of such gigantic strength
that, even with the handcuffs which holmes had so deftly
fastened upon his wrists, he would have very quickly
overpowered my friend had hopkins and i not rushed to his
rescue. only when i pressed the cold muzzle of the
revolver to his temple did he at last understand that
resistance was vain. we lashed his ankles with cord and
rose breathless from the struggle.
"i must really apologize, hopkins," said sherlock holmes;
"i fear that the scrambled eggs are cold. however, you
will enjoy the rest of your breakfast all the better, will
you not, for the thought that you have brought your case to
a triumphant conclusion."
stanley hopkins was speechless with amazement.
"i don't know what to say, mr. holmes," he blurted out at
last, with a very red face. "it seems to me that i have
been making a fool of myself from the beginning.
i understand now, what i should never have forgotten, that i
am the pupil and you are the master. even now i see what
you have done, but i don't know how you did it, or what it
signifies."
"well, well," said holmes, good-humouredly. "we all learn
by experience, and your lesson this time is that you should
never lose sight of the alternative. you were so absorbed
in young neligan that you could not spare a thought to
patrick cairns, the true murderer of peter carey."
the hoarse voice of the seaman broke in on our conversation.
"see here, mister," said he, "i make no complaint of being
man-handled in this fashion, but i would have you call
things by their right names. you say i murdered peter
carey; i say i _killed_ peter carey, and there's all
the difference. maybe you don't believe what i say.
maybe you think i am just slinging you a yarn."
"not at all," said holmes. "let us hear what you have to say."
"it's soon told, and, by the lord, every word of it is
truth. i knew black peter, and when he pulled out his
knife i whipped a harpoon through him sharp, for i knew
that it was him or m
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