lled back to town. "it hinged
from the outset upon the pince-nez. but for the fortunate
chance of the dying man having seized these i am not sure
that we could ever have reached our solution. it was clear
to me from the strength of the glasses that the wearer must
have been very blind and helpless when deprived of them.
when you asked me to believe that she walked along a narrow
strip of grass without once making a false step i remarked,
as you may remember, that it was a noteworthy performance.
in my mind i set it down as an impossible performance, save
in the unlikely case that she had a second pair of glasses.
i was forced, therefore, to seriously consider the
hypothesis that she had remained within the house. on
perceiving the similarity of the two corridors it became
clear that she might very easily have made such a mistake,
and in that case it was evident that she must have entered
the professor's room. i was keenly on the alert, therefore,
for whatever would bear out this supposition, and i examined
the room narrowly for anything in the shape of a
hiding-place. the carpet seemed continuous and firmly
nailed, so i dismissed the idea of a trap-door. there might
well be a recess behind the books. as you are aware, such
devices are common in old libraries. i observed that books
were piled on the floor at all other points, but that one
bookcase was left clear. this, then, might be the door. i
could see no marks to guide me, but the carpet was of a dun
colour, which lends itself very well to examination. i
therefore smoked a great number of those excellent
cigarettes, and i dropped the ash all over the space in
front of the suspected bookcase. it was a simple trick, but
exceedingly effective. i then went downstairs and i
ascertained, in your presence, watson, without your quite
perceiving the drift of my remarks, that professor coram's
consumption of food had increased -- as one would expect
when he is supplying a second person. we then ascended to
the room again, when, by upsetting the cigarette-box, i
obtained a very excellent view of the floor, and was able to
see quite clearly, from the traces upon the cigarette ash,
that the prisoner had, in our absence, come out from her
retreat. well, hopkins, here we are at charing cross, and i
congratulate you on having brought your case to a successful
conclusion. you are going to head-quarters, no doubt. i think,
watson, you and i will drive together to the russian embassy."
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{---------- end of text -------------}
{------------------------------------}
{miss, rev 4, 1/17/96 rms, 4th proofing}
{the adventure of the missing three-quarter, arthur conan doyle}
{source: the strand magazine, 28 (aug. 1904)}
{etext prepared by roger squires rsquires@nmia.com}
{braces({}) in the text indicate textual end-notes}
{underscores (_) in the text indicate italics}
xi. -- the adventure of the missing three-quarter.
we were fairly accustomed to receive weird telegrams
at baker street, but i have a particular recollection
of one which reached us on a gloomy february morning
some seven or eight years ago and gave mr. sherlock
holmes a puzzled quarter of an hour. it was addressed
to him, and ran thus:--
"please await me. terrible misfortune. right wing
three-quarter missing; indispensable to morrow. -- overton."
"strand post-mark and dispatched ten-thirty-six," said
holmes, reading it over and over. "mr. overton was
evidently considerably excited when he sent it, and
somewhat incoherent in consequence. well, well, he
will be here, i dare say, by the time i have looked
through the _times_, and then we shall know all about
it. even the most insignificant problem would be
welcome in these stagnant days."
things had indeed been very slow with us, and i had
learned to dread such periods of inaction, for i knew
by experience that my companion's brain was so
abnormally active that it was dangerous to leave it
without material upon which to work. for years i had
gradually weaned him from that drug mania which had
threatened once to check his remarkable career. now i
knew that under ordinary conditions he no longer
craved for this artificial stimulus, but i was well
aware that the fiend was not dead, but sleeping; and i
have known that the sleep was a light one and the
waking near when in periods of idleness i have seen
the drawn look upon holmes's ascetic face, and the
brooding of his deep-set and inscrutable eyes.
therefore i blessed this mr. overton, whoever he might
be, since he had come with his enigmatic message to
break that dangerous calm which brought more peril to
my friend than all the storms of his tempestuous life.
as we had expected, the telegram was soon followed by
its sender, and the card of mr. cyril overton, of
trinity coll
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