The Return of Sherlock Holmes | Page 5

which I was stretched, within a foot of my head. Of course, the
meaning of this was obvious. Moriarty had not been alone. A
confederate--and even that one glance had told me how dangerous a
man that confederate was--had kept guard while the Professor had
attacked me. From a distance, unseen by me, he had been a witness of
his friend's death and of my escape. He had waited, and then making
his way round to the top of the cliff, he had endeavoured to succeed
where his comrade had failed.
"I did not take long to think about it, Watson. Again I saw that grim
face look over the cliff, and I knew that it was the precursor of another
stone. I scrambled down on to the path. I don't think I could have done
it in cold blood. It was a hundred times more difficult than getting up.
But I had no time to think of the danger, for another stone sang past me
as I hung by my hands from the edge of the ledge. Halfway down I
slipped, but, by the blessing of God, I landed, torn and bleeding, upon
the path. I took to my heels, did ten miles over the mountains in the
darkness, and a week later I found myself in Florence, with the
certainty that no one in the world knew what had become of me.
"I had only one confidant--my brother Mycroft. I owe you many
apologies, my dear Watson, but it was all-important that it should be
thought I was dead, and it is quite certain that you would not have
written so convincing an account of my unhappy end had you not
yourself thought that it was true. Several times during the last three
years I have taken up my pen to write to you, but always I feared lest

your affectionate regard for me should tempt you to some indiscretion
which would betray my secret. For that reason I turned away from you
this evening when you upset my books, for I was in danger at the time,
and any show of surprise and emotion upon your part might have
drawn attention to my identity and led to the most deplorable and
irreparable results. As to Mycroft, I had to confide in him in order to
obtain the money which I needed. The course of events in London did
not run so well as I had hoped, for the trial of the Moriarty gang left
two of its most dangerous members, my own most vindictive enemies,
at liberty. I travelled for two years in Tibet, therefore, and amused
myself by visiting Lhassa, and spending some days with the head lama.
You may have read of the remarkable explorations of a Norwegian
named Sigerson, but I am sure that it never occurred to you that you
were receiving news of your friend. I then passed through Persia,
looked in at Mecca, and paid a short but interesting visit to the Khalifa
at Khartoum the results of which I have communicated to the Foreign
Office. Returning to France, I spent some months in a research into the
coal-tar derivatives, which I conducted in a laboratory at Montpellier,
in the south of France. Having concluded this to my satisfaction and
learning that only one of my enemies was now left in London, I was
about to return when my movements were hastened by the news of this
very remarkable Park Lane Mystery, which not only appealed to me by
its own merits, but which seemed to offer some most peculiar personal
opportunities. I came over at once to London, called in my own person
at Baker Street, threw Mrs. Hudson into violent hysterics, and found
that Mycroft had preserved my rooms and my papers exactly as they
had always been. So it was, my dear Watson, that at two o'clock to-day
I found myself in my old armchair in my own old room, and only
wishing that I could have seen my old friend Watson in the other chair
which he has so often adorned."
Such was the remarkable narrative to which I listened on that April
evening--a narrative which would have been utterly incredible to me
had it not been confirmed by the actual sight of the tall, spare figure
and the keen, eager face, which I had never thought to see again. In
some manner he had learned of my own sad bereavement, and his
sympathy was shown in his manner rather than in his words. "Work is

the best antidote to sorrow, my dear Watson," said he; "and I have a
piece of work for us both to-night which, if we can bring it to a
successful conclusion, will in itself justify a man's life on this planet."
In vain