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Chapter X The End of the Islander

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    Ourmealwasamerryone.Holmescouldtalkexceedinglywellwhenhechose,andthatnighthedidchoose.Heappearedtobeinastateofnervousexaltation.Ihaveneverknownhimsobrilliant.Hespokeonaquicksuccessionofsubjects,—onmiracle-plays,onmedi?valpottery,onStradivariusviolins,ontheBuddhismofCeylon,andonthewar-shipsofthefuture,—handlingeachasthoughhehadmadeaspecialstudyofit.Hisbrighthumourmarkedthereactionfromhisblackdepressionoftheprecedingdays.AthelneyJonesprovedtobeasociablesoulinhishoursofrelaxation,andfacedhisdinnerwiththeairofabonvivant.Formyself,Ifeltelatedatthethoughtthatwewerenearingtheendofourtask,andIcaughtsomethingofHolmes’sgaiety.Noneofusalludedduringdinnertothecausewhichhadbroughtustogether. Whentheclothwascleared,Holmesglancedathiswatch,andfilledupthreeglasseswithport.“Onebumper,”saidhe,“tothesuccessofourlittleexpedition.Andnowitishightimewewereoff.Haveyouapistol,Watson?” “Ihavemyoldservice-revolverinmydesk.” “Youhadbesttakeit,then.Itiswelltobeprepared.Iseethatthecabisatthedoor.Iordereditforhalf-pastsix.” ItwasalittlepastsevenbeforewereachedtheWestminsterwharf,andfoundourlaunchawaitingus.Holmeseyeditcritically. “Isthereanythingtomarkitasapolice-boat?” “Yes,—thatgreenlampattheside.” “Thentakeitoff.” Thesmallchangewasmade,westeppedonboard,andtheropeswerecastoff.Jones,Holmes,andIsatinthestern.Therewasonemanattherudder,onetotendtheengines,andtwoburlypolice-inspectorsforward. “Whereto?”askedJones. “TotheTower.TellthemtostopoppositeJacobson’sYard.” Ourcraftwasevidentlyaveryfastone.Weshotpastthelonglinesofloadedbargesasthoughtheywerestationary.Holmessmiledwithsatisfactionasweoverhauledariversteamerandleftherbehindus. “Weoughttobeabletocatchanythingontheriver,”hesaid. “Well,hardlythat.Buttherearenotmanylaunchestobeatus.” “WeshallhavetocatchtheAurora,andshehasanameforbeingaclipper.Iwil
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