Ofalltheproblemswhichhavebeensubmittedtomyfriend,Mr.SherlockHolmes,forsolutionduringtheyearsofourintimacy,therewereonlytwowhichIwasthemeansofintroducingtohisnotice—thatofMr.Hatherley’sthumb,andthatofColonelWarburton’smadness.Ofthesethelattermayhaveaffordedafinerfieldforanacuteandoriginalobserver,buttheotherwassostrangeinitsinceptionandsodramaticinitsdetailsthatitmaybethemoreworthyofbeingplaceduponrecord,evenifitgavemyfriendfeweropeningsforthosedeductivemethodsofreasoningbywhichheachievedsuchremarkableresults.Thestoryhas,Ibelieve,beentoldmorethanonceinthenewspapers,but,likeallsuchnarratives,itseffectismuchlessstrikingwhensetforthenblocinasinglehalf-columnofprintthanwhenthefactsslowlyevolvebeforeyourowneyes,andthemysteryclearsgraduallyawayaseachnewdiscoveryfurnishesastepwhichleadsontothecompletetruth.Atthetimethecircumstancesmadeadeepimpressionuponme,andthelapseoftwoyearshashardlyservedtoweakentheeffect.
Itwasinthesummerof’89,notlongaftermymarriage,thattheeventsoccurredwhichIamnowabouttosummarise.IhadreturnedtocivilpracticeandhadfinallyabandonedHolmesinhisBakerStreetrooms,althoughIcontinuallyvisitedhimandoccasionallyevenpersuadedhimtoforgohisBohemianhabitssofarastocomeandvisitus.Mypracticehadsteadilyincreased,andasIhappenedtoliveatnoverygreatdistancefromPaddingtonStation,Igotafewpatientsfromamongtheofficials.Oneofthese,whomIhadcuredofapainfulandlingeringdisease,wasneverwearyofadvertisingmyvirtuesandofendeavouringtosendmeoneverysuffereroverwhomhemighthaveanyinfluence.
Onemorning,atalittlebeforeseveno’clock,IwasawakenedbythemaidtappingatthedoortoannouncethattwomenhadcomefromPaddingtonandwerewaitingintheconsulting-room.Idressedhurriedly,forIknewbyexperiencethatrailwaycaseswereseldomtrivial,andhasteneddownstairs.AsIdescended,myoldally,theguard,cameoutoftheroomandclosedthedoortightlybehindhim.
“I’vegothimhere,”hewhispered,jerkinghisthumboverhisshoulder“he’sallright.”
“Whatisit,then?”Iasked,forhismannersuggestedthatitwassomestrangecreaturewhichhehadcagedupinmyroom.
“It’sanewpatient,”hewhispered.“IthoughtI’dbringhimroundmyselfthenhecouldn’tslipaway.Thereheis,allsafeandsound.Imustgonow,DoctorIhavemydooties,justthesameasyou.”Andoffhewent,thistrustytout,withoutevengivingmetimetothankhim.
Ienteredmyconsulting-roomandfoundagentlemanseatedbythetable.Hewasquietlydressedinasuitofheathertweedwithasoftclothcapwhichhehadlaiddownuponmybooks.Roundoneofhishandshehadahandkerchiefwrapped,whichwasmottledalloverwithbloodstains.Hewasyoung,notmorethanfive-and-twenty,Ishouldsay,withastrong,masculinefacebuthewasexceedinglypaleandgavemetheimpressionofamanwhowassufferingfromsomestrongagitation,whichittookallhisstrengthofmindtocontrol.
“Iamsorrytoknockyouupsoearly,Doctor,”saidhe,“butIhavehadaveryseriousaccidentduringthenight.Icameinbytrainthismorning,andoninquiringatPaddingtonastowhereImightfindadoctor,aworthyfellowverykindlyescortedmehere.Igavethemaidacard,butIseethatshehasleftitupontheside-table.”
Itookitupandglancedatit.“Mr.VictorHatherley,hydraulicengineer,16A,VictoriaStreet(3rdfloor).”Thatwasthename,style,andabodeofmymorningvisitor.“IregretthatIhavekeptyouwaiting,”saidI,sittingdowninmylibrary-chair.“Youarefreshfromanightjourney,Iunderstand,whichisinitselfamonotonousoccupation.”
“Oh,mynightcouldnotbecalledmonotonous,”saidhe,andlaughed.Helaughedveryheartily,withahigh,ringingnote,leaningbackinhischairandshakinghissides.Allmymedicalinstinctsroseupagainstthatlaugh.
“Stopit!”Icried“pullyourselftogether!”andIpouredoutsomewaterfromacaraffe.
Itwasuseless,however.Hewasoffinoneofthosehystericaloutburstswhichcomeuponastrongnaturewhensomegreatcrisisisoverandgone.Presentlyhecametohimselfoncemore,verywearyandpale-look