The return of Sherlock Holmes (completed)

The Return Of Sherlock Holmes (part 4)

(The Return of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle)

What do you think of it, Mr. Holmes?"

"I think that fortune is very kind to us."

"You mean that the person will come again?"

"It is very probable. He came expecting to find the door open.
He tried to get in with the blade of a very small penknife. He
could not manage it. What would he do?"

"Come again next night with a more useful tool."

"So I should say. It will be our fault if we are not there to
receive him. Meanwhile, let me see the inside of the cabin."

The traces of the tragedy had been removed, but the furniture
within the little room still stood as it had been on the night
of the crime. For two hours, with most intense concentration,
Holmes examined every object in turn, but his face showed that
his quest was not a successful one. Once only he paused in his
patient investigation.

"Have you taken anything off this shelf, Hopkins?"

"No, I have moved nothing."

"Something has been taken. There is less dust in this corner of
the shelf than elsewhere. It may have been a book lying on its
side. It may have been a box. Well, well, I can do nothing more.
Let us walk in these beautiful woods, Watson, and give a few
hours to the birds and the flowers. We shall meet you here
later, Hopkins, and see if we can come to closer quarters with
the gentleman who has paid this visit in the night."

It was past eleven o'clock when we formed our little ambuscade.
Hopkins was for leaving the door of the hut open, but Holmes was
of the opinion that this would rouse the suspicions of the
stranger. The lock was a perfectly simple one, and only a strong
blade was needed to push it back. Holmes also suggested that we
should wait, not inside the hut, but outside it, among the
bushes which grew round the farther window. In this way we
should be able to watch our man if he struck a light, and see
what his object was in this stealthy nocturnal visit.

It was a long and melancholy vigil, and yet brought with it
something of the thrill which the hunter feels when he lies
beside the water-pool, and waits for the coming of the thirsty
beast of prey. What savage creature was it which might steal
upon us out of the darkness? Was it a fierce tiger of crime,
which could only be taken fighting hard with flashing fang and
claw, or would it prove to be some skulking jackal, dangerous
only to the weak and unguarded?

In absolute silence we crouched amongst the bushes, waiting for
whatever might come. At first the steps of a few belated
villagers, or the sound of voices from the village, lightened
our vigil, but one by one these interruptions died away, and an
absolute stillness fell upon us, save for the chimes of the
distant church, which told us of the progress of the night, and
for the rustle and whisper of a fine rain falling amid the
foliage which roofed us in.

Half-past two had chimed, and it was the darkest hour which
precedes the dawn, when we all started as a low but sharp click
came from the direction of the gate. Someone had entered the
drive. Again there was a long silence, and I had begun to fear
that it was a false alarm, when a stealthy step was heard upon
the other side of the hut, and a moment later a metallic
scraping and clinking. The man was trying to force the lock.
This time his skill was greater or his tool was better, for
there was a sudden snap and the creak of the hinges. Then a
match was struck, and next instant the steady light from a
candle filled the interior of the hut. Through the gauze curtain
our eyes were all riveted upon the scene within.

The nocturnal visitor was a young man, frail and thin, with a
black moustache, which intensified the deadly pallor of his
face. He could not have been much above twenty years of age. I
have never seen any human being who appeared to be in such a
pitiable fright, for his teeth were visibly chattering, and he
was shaking in every limb. He was dressed like a gentleman, in
Norfolk jacket and knickerbockers, with a cloth cap upon his
head. We watched him staring round with frightened eyes. Then he
laid the candle-end upon the table and disappeared from our view
into one of the corners. He returned with a large book, one of
the logbooks which formed a line upon the shelves. Leaning on
the table, he rapidly turned over the leaves of this volume
until he came to the entry which he sought. Then, with an angry
gesture of his clenched hand, he closed the book, replaced it in
the corner, and put out the light. He had hardly turned to leave
the hut when Hopkin's hand was on the fellow's collar, and I heard
his loud gasp of terror as he understood that he was taken. The
candle was relit, and there was our wretched captive, shivering and
cowering in the grasp of the detective. He sank down upon the
sea-chest, and looked helplessly from one of us to the other.