Our meal was a merry one. Holmes
could talk exceedingly well when
he chose, and that night he did
choose. He appeared to be
in a state of nervous exaltation. I have never known him so
brilliant. He spoke on a quick succession of subjects -- on miracle
plays, on medieval pottery, on Stradivarius violins, on the
Buddhism of Ceylon, and on the warships of the future -- handling
each as though he had made a special study of it. His bright
humour marked the reaction from his black depression of the
preceding days. Athelney Jones proved to be a sociable soul in
his hours of relaxation and faced his dinner with the air of a bon
vivant. For myself, I felt elated at the thought that we were
nearing the end of our task, and I caught something of Holmes's
gaiety. None of us alluded during dinner to the cause which had
brought us together.
When the cloth was cleared
Holmes glanced at his watch and
filled up three glasses with
port.
"One bumper," said he, "to
the success of our little expedi-
tion. And now it is high time
we were off. Have you a pistol
Watson?"
"I
have my old
service-revolver
in my desk."
"You
had best take
it, then. It
is well to
be prepared.
I
see that the cab is at the door.
I ordered it for half-past six."
It was a little past seven
before we reached the Westminster
wharf and found our launch awaiting
us. Holmes eyed it critically.
"Is
there anything
to mark it
as a police-boat?"
"Yes,
that green
lamp at the
side."
"Then
take it off."
The small change was made,
we stepped on board, and the
ropes were cast off. Jones, Holmes,
and I sat in the stern. There
was one man at the rudder, one
to tend the engines, and two
burly police-inspectors forward.
"Where to?" asked
Jones.
"To
the Tower.
Tell them to
stop opposite to Jacobson's Yard."
Our craft was evidently a very
fast one. We shot past the long
lines of loaded barges as though
they were stationary. Holmes
smiled with satisfaction as we
overhauled a river steamer and
left her behind us.
"We ought to be able to catch
anything on the river," he said.
"Well,
hardly that.
But there are
not many launches
to beat
us."
"We
shall have
to catch the
Aurora, and she has a name for
being a clipper. I will tell
you how the land lies, Watson.
You recollect how annoyed I was
at being baulked by so small
a thing?"
"Yes."
"Well,
I gave my mind
a thorough
rest by plunging
into a chemical
analysis. One of our greatest
statesmen has said that a change
of work is the best rest. So
it is. When I had succeeded in
dissolving the hydrocarbon which
I was at work at, I came back
to our problem of the Sholtos,
and thought the whole matter
out again. My boys had been up
the river and down the river
without result. The launch was
not at any landing-stage or wharf,
nor had it returned. Yet it could
hardly have been scuttled to
hide their traces, though that
always remained as a possible
hypothe- sis if all else failed.
I knew that this man Small had
a certain degree of low cunning,
but I did not think him capable
of anything in the nature of
delicate finesse. That is usually
a product of higher education.
I then reflected that since he
had certainly been in London
some time -- as we had evidence
that he maintained a continual
watch over Pondicherry Lodge
-- he could hardly leave at a
moment's notice, but would need
some little time, if it were
only a day, to arrange his affairs.
That was the balance of probability,
at any rate."
"It seems to me to be a little
weak," said I; "it is more probable
that he had arranged his affairs
before ever he set out upon his
expedition."
"No,
I hardly think
so. This lair
of his would
be too valuable
a retreat in case of need for
him to give it up until he was
sure that he could do without
it. But a second consideration
struck me. Jonathan Small must
have felt that the peculiar appearance
of his companion, however much
he may have top-coated him, would
give rise to gossip, and possibly
be associated with this Norwood
tragedy. He was quite sharp enough
to see that. They had started
from their headquarters under
cover of darkness, and he would
wish to get back before it was
broad light. Now, it was past
three o'clock, according to Mrs.
Smith, when they got the boat.
It would be quite bright, and
people would be about in an hour
or so. Therefore, I argued, they
did not go very far. They paid
Smith well to hold his tongue,
reserved his launch for the final
escape, and hurried to their
lodgings with the treasure-box.
In a couple of nights, when they
had time to see what view the
papers took, and whether there
was any suspicion, they would
make their way under cover of
darkness to some ship at Gravesend
or in the Downs, where no doubt
they had already arranged for
passages to America or the Colonies."
"But
the launch?
They could
not have taken
that to their
lodgings."
"Quite
so. l argued
that the launch
must be no
great way off,
in spite of its invisibility.
I then put myself in the place
of Small and looked at it as
a man of his capacity would.
He would probably consider that
to send back the launch or to
keep it at a wharf would make
pursuit easy if the police did
happen to get on his track. How,
then, could he conceal the launch
and yet have her at hand when
wanted? I wondered what I should
do myself if I were in his shoes.
I could only think of one way
of doing it. I might hand the
launch over to some boat-builder
or repairer, with directions
to make a trifling change in
her. She would then be removed
to his shed or yard, and so be
effectually concealed, while
at the same time I could have
her at a few hours' notice."
"That
seems simple
enough."
"It
is just these
very simple
things which are extremely liable
to be overlooked. However, I
determined to act on the idea.
I started at once in this harmless
seaman's rig and inquired at
all the yards down the river.
I drew blank at fifteen, but
at the sixteenth -- Jacobson's
-- I learned that the Aurora
had been handed over to them
two days ago by a wooden-legged
man, with some trivial directions
as to her rudder. 'There ain't
naught amiss with her rudder,'
said the foreman. 'There she
lies, with the red streaks.'
At that moment who should come
down but Mordecai Smith, the
missing owner. He was rather
the worse for liquor. I should
not, of course, have known him,
but he bellowed out his name
and the name of his launch. 'I
want her to-night at eight o'clock,'
said he -- 'eight o'clock sharp,
mind, for I have two gentlemen
who won't be kept waiting.' They
had evidently paid him well,
for he was very flush of money,
chucking shillings about to the
men. I followed him some distance,
but he subsided into an alehouse;
so I went back to the yard, and,
happening to pick up one of my
boys on the way, I stationed
him as a sentry over the launch.
He is to stand at the water's
edge and wave his handkerchief
to us when they start. We shall
be lying off in the stream, and
it will be a strange thing if
we do not take men, treasure,
and all."
"You have planned it all very
neatly, whether they are the
right men or not," said Jones; "but
if the affair were in my hands
I should have had a body of police
in Jacobson's Yard and arrested
them when they came down."
"Which
would have
been never.
This man Small is a pretty shrewd
fellow. He would send a scout
on ahead, and if anything made
him suspicious he would lie snug
for another week."
"But you might have stuck to
Mordecai Smith, and so been led
to their hiding-place," said
I.
"In
that case I
should have
wasted my day. I think that it
is a hundred to one against Smith
knowing where they live. As long
as he has liquor and good pay,
why should he ask questions?
They send him messages what to
do. No, I thought over every
possible course, and this is
the best."
While this conversation had
been proceeding, we had been
shooting the long series of bridges
which span the Thames. As we
passed the City the last rays
of the sun were gilding the cross
upon the summit of St. Paul's.
It was twilight before we reached
the Tower.
"That is Jacobson's Yard," said
Holmes, pointing to a bristle
of masts and rigging on the Surrey
side. "Cruise gently up and down
here under cover of this string
of lighters." He took a pair
of night-glasses from his pocket
and gazed some time at the shore. "I
see my sentry at his post," he
remarked, "but no sign of a handkerchief."
"Suppose we go downstream a
short way and lie in wait for
them," said Jones eagerly.
We were all eager by this time,
even the policemen and stokers,
who had a very vague idea of
what was going forward.
"We have no right to take anything
for granted," Holmes answered. "It
is certainly ten to one that
they go downstream, but we cannot
be certain. From this point we
can see the entrance of the yard,
and they can hardly see us. It
will be a clear night and plenty
of light. We must stay where
we are. See how the folk swarm
over yonder in the gaslight."
"They
are coming
from work in
the yard."
"Dirty-looking
rascals, but
I suppose every one has some
little immortal spark concealed
about him. You would not think
it, to look at them. There is
no a priori probability about
it. A strange enigma is man!"
"Someone calls him a soul concealed
in an animal," I suggested.
"Winwood Reade is good upon
the subject," said Holmes. "He
remarks that, while the individual
man is an insoluble puzzle, in
the aggregate he becomes a mathematical
certainty. You can, for example,
never foretell what any one man
will do, but you can say with
precision what an average number
will be up to. Individuals vary,
but percentages remain constant.
So says the statistician. But
do I see a handkerchief? Surely
there is a white flutter over
yonder."
"Yes, it is your boy," I cried. "I
can see him plainly."
"And there is the Aurora," exclaimed
Holmes, "and going like the devil!
Full speed ahead, engineer. Make
after that launch with the yellow
light. By heaven, I shall never
forgive myself if she proves
to have the heels of us!"
She had slipped unseen through
the yard-entrance and passed
between two or three small craft,
so that she had fairly got her
speed up before we saw her. Now
she was flying down the stream,
near in to the shore, going at
a tremendous rate. Jones looked
gravely at her and shook his
head.
"She is very fast," he said. "I
doubt if we shall catch her."
"We must catch her!" cried
Holmes between his teeth. "Heap
it on, stokers! Make her do all
she can! If we burn the boat
we must have them!"
We were fairly after her now.
The furnaces roared, and the
powerful engines whizzed and
clanked like a great metallic
heart. Her sharp, steep prow
cut through the still river-water
and sent two rolling waves to
right and to left of us. With
every throb of the engines we
sprang and quivered like a living
thing. One great yellow lantern
in our bows threw a long, flickering
funnel of light in front of us.
Right ahead a dark blur upon
the water showed where the Aurora
lay, and the swirl of white foam
behind her spoke of the pace
at which she was going. We flashed
past barges, steamers, merchant-vessels,
in and out, behind this one and
round the other. Voices hailed
us out of the darkness, but still
the Aurora thundered on, and
still we followed close upon
her track.
"Pile it on, men, pile it on!" cried
Holmes, looking down into the
engine-room, while the fierce
glow from below beat upon his
eager, aquiline face. "Get every
pound of steam you can."
"I think we gain a little," said
Jones with his eyes on the Aurora.
"I am sure of it," said I. "We
shall be up with her in a very
few minutes."
At that moment, however, as
our evil fate would have it,
a tug with three barges in tow
blundered in between us. It was
only by putting our helm hard
down that we avoided a collision,
and before we could round them
and recover our way the Aurora
had gained a good two hundred
yards. She was still, however,
well in view, and the murky,
uncertain twilight was settling
into a clear, starlit night.
Our boilers were strained to
their utmost, and the frail shell
vibrated and creaked with the
fierce energy which was driving
us along. We had shot through
the pool, past the West India
Docks, down the long Deptford
Reach, and up again after rounding
the Isle of Dogs. The dull blur
in front of us resolved itself
now clearly into the dainty Aurora.
Jones turned our searchlight
upon her, so that we could plainly
see the figures upon her deck.
One man sat by the stern, with
something black between his knees,
over which he stooped. Beside
him lay a dark mass, which looked
like a Newfoundland dog. The
boy held the tiller, while against
the red glare of the furnace
I could see old Smith, stripped
to the waist, and shovelling
coals for dear life. They may
have had some doubt at first
as to whether we were really
pursuing them, but now as we
followed every winding and turning
which they took there could no
longer be any question about
it. At Greenwich we were about
three hundred paces behind them.
At Blackwall we could not have
been more than two hundred and
fifty. I have coursed many creatures
in many countries during my checkered
career, but never did sport give
me such a wild thrill as this
mad, flying man-hunt down the
Thames. Steadily we drew in upon
them, yard by yard. In the silence
of the night we could hear the
panting and clanking of their
machinery. The man in the stern
still crouched upon the deck,
and his arms were moving as though
he were busy, while every now
and then he would look up and
measure with a glance the distance
which still separated us. Nearer
we came and nearer. Jones yelled
to them to stop. We were not
more than four boat's-lengths
behind them, both boats flying
at a tremendous pace. It was
a clear reach of the river, with
Barking Level upon one side and
the melancholy Plumstead Marshes
upon the other. At our hail the
man in the stern sprang up from
the deck and shook his two clenched
fists at us, cursing the while
in a high, cracked voice. He
was a good-sized, powerful man,
and as he stood poising himself
with legs astride I could see
that from the thigh downward
there was but a wooden stump
upon the right side. At the sound
of his strident, angry cries,
there was move- ment in the huddled
bundle upon the deck. It straightened
itself into a little black man
-- the smallest I have ever seen
-- with a great, misshapen head
and a shock of tangled, dishevelled
hair. Holmes had already drawn
his revolver, and I whipped out
mine at the sight of this savage,
distorted creature. He was wrapped
in some sort of dark ulster or
blanket, which left only his
face exposed, but that face was
enough to give a man a sleepless
night. Never have I seen features
so deeply marked with all bestiality
and cruelty. His small eyes glowed
and burned with a sombre light,
and his thick lips were writhed
back from his teeth, Which grinned
and chattered at us with half
animal fury.
"Fire if he raises his hand," said
Holmes quietly.
We were within a boat's-length
by this time, and almost within
touch of our quarry. I can see
the two of them now as they stood,
the white man with his legs far
apart, shrieking out curses,
and the unhallowed dwarf with
his hideous face, and his strong
yellow teeth gnashing at us in
the light of our lantern.
It was well that we had so
clear a view of him. Even as
we looked he plucked out from
under his covering a short, round
piece of wood, like a school-ruler,
and clapped it to his lips. Our
pistols rang out together. He
whirled round, threw up his arms
and, with a kind of choking cough,
fell sideways into the stream.
I caught one glimpse of his venomous,
menacing eyes amid the white
swirl of the waters. At the same
moment the wooden- legged man
threw himself upon the rudder
and put it hard down so that
his boat made straight in for
the southern bank, while we shot
past her stern, only clearing
her by a few feet. We were round
after her in an instant, but
she was already nearly at the
bank. It was a wild and desolate
place, where the moon glim- mered
upon a wide expanse of marsh-land,
with pools of stag- nant water
and beds of decaying vegetation.
The launch, with a dull thud,
ran up upon the mud-bank, with
her bow in the air and her stern
flush with the water. The fugitive
sprang out, but his stump instantly
sank its whole length into the
sodden soil. In vain he struggled
and writhed. Not one step could
he possibly take either forward
or backward. He yelled in impotent
rage and kicked frantically into
the mud with his other foot,
but his struggles only bored
his wooden pin the deeper into
the sticky bank. When we brought
our launch alongside he was so
firmly anchored that it was only
by throwing the end of a rope
over his shoulders that we were
able to haul him out and to drag
him, like some evil fish, over
our side. The two Smiths, father
and son, sat sullenly in their
launch but came aboard meekly
enough when commanded. The Aurora
herself we hauled off and made
fast to our stern. A solid iron
chest of Indian workmanship stood
upon the deck. This, there could
be no question, was the same
that had contained the ill-omened
treasure of the Sholtos. There
was no key, but it was of considerable
weight, so we transferred it
carefully to our own little cabin.
As we steamed slowly upstream
again, we flashed our searchlight
in every direction, but there
was no sign of the Islander.
Somewhere in the dark ooze at
the bottom of the Thames lie
the bones of that strange visitor
to our shores.
"See here," said Holmes, pointing
to the wooden hatchway. "We were
hardly quick enough with our
pistols;" There, sure enough,
just behind where we had been
standing, stuck one of those
murderous darts which we knew
so well. It must have whizzed
between us at the instant we
fired. Holmes smiled at it and
shrugged his shoulders in his
easy fashion, but I confess that
it turned me sick to think of
the horrible death which had
passed so close to us that night. |