lampandhelditwhileIfollowedhim.
Thechamberinwhichwefoundourselveswasabouttenfeetonewayandsixtheother.Thefloorwasformedbytherafters,withthinlath-and-plasterbetween,sothatinwalkingonehadtostepfrombeamtobeam.Theroofranuptoanapex,andwasevidentlytheinnershellofthetrueroofofthehouse.Therewasnofurnitureofanysort,andtheaccumulateddustofyearslaythickuponthefloor.
“Hereyouare,yousee,”saidSherlockHolmes,puttinghishandagainsttheslopingwall.“Thisisatrap-doorwhichleadsoutontotheroof.Icanpressitback,andhereistheroofitself,slopingatagentleangle.This,then,isthewaybywhichNumberOneentered.Letusseeifwecanfindanyothertracesofhisindividuality.”
Hehelddownthelamptothefloor,andashedidsoIsawforthesecondtimethatnightastartled,surprisedlookcomeoverhisface.Formyself,asIfollowedhisgazemyskinwascoldundermyclothes.Thefloorwascoveredthicklywiththeprintsofanakedfoot,—clear,welldefined,perfectlyformed,butscarcehalfthesizeofthoseofanordinaryman.
“Holmes,”Isaid,inawhisper,“achildhasdonethehorridthing.”
Hehadrecoveredhisself-possessioninaninstant.“Iwasstaggeredforthemoment,”hesaid,“butthethingisquitenatural.Mymemoryfailedme,orIshouldhavebeenabletoforetellit.Thereisnothingmoretobelearnedhere.Letusgodown.”
“Whatisyourtheory,then,astothosefootmarks?”Iasked,eagerly,whenwehadregainedthelowerroomoncemore.
“MydearWatson,tryalittleanalysisyourself,”saidhe,withatouchofimpatience.“Youknowmymethods.Applythem,anditwillbeinstructivetocompareresults.”
“Icannotconceiveanythingwhichwillcoverthefacts,”Ianswered.
“Itwillbeclearenoughtoyousoon,”hesaid,inanoff-handway.“Ithinkthatthereisnothingelseofimportancehere,butIwilllook.”Hewhippedouthislensandatapemeasure,andhurriedabouttheroomonhisknees,measuring,comparing,examining,withhislongthinnoseonlyafewinchesfr