e. that's how he died. you can call
it murder. anyhow, i'd as soon die with a rope round my
neck as with black peter's knife in my heart."
"how came you there?" asked holmes.
"i'll tell it you from the beginning. just sit me up a
little so as i can speak easy. it was in '83 that it
happened -- august of that year. peter carey was master of
the _sea unicorn_, and i was spare harpooner. we were
coming out of the ice-pack on our way home, with head winds
and a week's southerly gale, when we picked up a little
craft that had been blown north. there was one man on her
-- a landsman. the crew had thought she would founder,
and had made for the norwegian coast in the dinghy.
i guess they were all drowned. well, we took him on board,
this man, and he and the skipper had some long talks in the
cabin. all the baggage we took off with him was one tin box.
so far as i know, the man's name was never mentioned,
and on the second night he disappeared as if he had never been.
it was given out that he had either thrown himself
overboard or fallen overboard in the heavy weather that we
were having. only one man knew what had happened to him,
and that was me, for with my own eyes i saw the skipper tip
up his heels and put him over the rail in the middle watch
of a dark night, two days before we sighted the shetland lights.
"well, i kept my knowledge to myself and waited to see what
would come of it. when we got back to scotland it was
easily hushed up, and nobody asked any questions.
a stranger died by an accident, and it was nobody's business
to inquire. shortly after peter carey gave up the sea,
and it was long years before i could find where he was.
i guessed that he had done the deed for the sake of what
was in that tin box, and that he could afford now to pay me
well for keeping my mouth shut.
"i found out where he was through a sailor man that had met
him in london, and down i went to squeeze him. the first
night he was reasonable enough, and was ready to give me
what would make me free of the sea for life. we were to
fix it all two nights later. when i came i found him three
parts drunk and in a vile temper. we sat down and we drank
and we yarned about old times, but the more he drank the
less i liked the look on his face. i spotted that harpoon
upon the wall, and i thought i might need it before i was
through. then at last he broke out at me, spitting and
cursing, with murder in his eyes and a great clasp-knife in
his hand. he had not time to get it from the sheath before
i had the harpoon through him. heavens! what a yell he
gave; and his face gets between me and my sleep! i stood
there, with his blood splashing round me, and i waited for
a bit; but all was quiet, so i took heart once more. i
looked round, and there was the tin box on a shelf. i had
as much right to it as peter carey, anyhow, so i took it
with me and left the hut. like a fool i left my
baccy-pouch upon the table.
"now i'll tell you the queerest part of the whole story.
i had hardly got outside the hut when i heard someone coming,
and i hid among the bushes. a man came slinking along,
went into the hut, gave a cry as if he had seen a ghost,
and legged it as hard as he could run until he was out of
sight. who he was or what he wanted is more than i can tell.
for my part, i walked ten miles, got a train at tunbridge wells,
and so reached london, and no one the wiser.
"well, when i came to examine the box i found there was no
money in it, and nothing but papers that i would not dare
to sell. i had lost my hold on black peter, and was
stranded in london without a shilling. there was only my
trade left. i saw these advertisements about harpooners
and high wages, so i went to the shipping agents, and they
sent me here. that's all i know, and i say again that if
i killed black peter the law should give me thanks, for
i saved them the price of a hempen rope."
"a very clear statement," said holmes, rising and lighting
his pipe. "i think, hopkins, that you should lose no time
in conveying your prisoner to a place of safety. this room
is not well adapted for a cell, and mr. patrick cairns
occupies too large a proportion of our carpet."
"mr. holmes," said hopkins, "i do not know how to express
my gratitude. even now i do not understand how you
attained this result."
"simply by having the good fortune to get the right clue
from the beginning. it is very possible that if i had
known about this note-book it might have led away my
thoughts, as it did yours. but all i heard pointed in the
one direction. the amazing strength, the skill in the use
of the harpoon, the rum and water, the seal-skin
tobacco-pouch, with the coarse tobacco -- all these pointed
to a seaman, and one who had been a whaler. i was
convinced that the initials 'p.c.' upon the pouch were a
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