The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes

"My dear Mycroft, I should be delighted."

  The brother scribbled a note upon a leaf of his

  pocket-book, and, ringing the bell, he handed it to

  the waiter.

  "I have asked Mr. Melas to step across," said he. "He

  lodges on the floor above me, and I have some slight

  acquaintance with him, which led him to come to me in

  his perplexity. Mr. Melas is a Greek by extraction,

  as I understand, and he is a remarkable linguist. He

  earns his living partly as interpreter in the law

  courts and partly by acting as guide to any wealthy

  Orientals who may visit the Northumberland Avenue

  hotels. I think I will leave him to tell his very

  remarkable experience in his own fashion."

  A few minutes later we were joined by a short, stout

  man whose olive face and coal-black hair proclaimed

  his Southern origin, though his speech was that of an

  educated Englishman. He shook hands eagerly with

  Sherlock Holmes, and his dark eyes sparkled with

  pleasure when he understood that the specialist was

  anxious to hear his story.

  "I do not believe that the police credit me--on my

  word, I do not," said he in a wailing voice. "Just

  because they have never heard of it before, they think

  that such a thing cannot be. But I know that I shall

  never be easy in my mind until I know what has become

  of my poor man with the sticking-plaster upon his

  face."

  "I am all attention," said Sherlock Holmes.

  "This is Wednesday evening," said Mr. Melas. "Well

  then, it was Monday night--only two days ago, you

  understand--that all this happened. I am an

  interpreter, as perhaps my neighbor there has told

  you. I interpret all languages--or nearly all--but as

  I am a Greek by birth and with a Grecian name, it is

  with that particular tongue that I am principally

  associated. For many years I have been the chief

  Greek interpreter in London, and my name is very well

  known in the hotels.

  It happens not unfrequently that I am sent for at

  strange hours by foreigners who get into difficulties,

  or by traveler who arrive late and wish my services.

  I was not surprised, therefore, on Monday night when a

  Mr. Latimer, a very fashionably dressed young man,

  came up to my rooms and asked me to accompany him in a

  cab which was waiting at the door. A Greek friend had

  come to see him upon business, he said, and as he

  could speak nothing but his own tongue, the services

  of an interpreter were indispensable. He gave me to

  understand that his house was some little distance

  off, in Kensington, and he seemed to be in a great

  hurry, bustling me rapidly into the cab when we had

  descended to the street.

  "I say into the cab, but I soon became doubtful as to

  whether it was not a carriage in which I found myself.

  It was certainly more roomy than the ordinary

  four-wheeled disgrace to London, and the fittings,

  though frayed, were of rich quality. Mr. Latimer

  seated himself opposite to me and we started off

  through Charing Cross and up the Shaftesbury Avenue.

  We had come out upon Oxford Street and I had ventured

  some remark as to this being a roundabout way to

  Kensington, when my words were arrested by the

  extraordinary conduct of my companion.

  "He began by drawing a most formidable-looking

  bludgeon loaded with lead from his pocket, and

  switching it backward and forward several times, as if

  to test its weight and strength. Then he placed it

  without a word upon the seat beside him. Having done

  this, he drew up the windows on each side, and I found

  to my astonishment that they were covered with paper

  so as to prevent my seeing through them.

  "'I am sorry to cut off your view, Mr. Melas,' said

  he. 'The fact is that I have no intention that you

  should see what the place is to which we are driving.

  It might possibly be inconvenient to me if you could

  find your way there again.'

  "As you can imagine, I was utterly taken aback by such

  an address. My companion was a powerful,

  broad-shouldered young fellow, and, apart from the

  weapon, I should not have had the slightest chance in

  a struggle with him.

  "'This is very extraordinary conduct, Mr. Latimer,' I

  stammered. 'You must be aware that what you are doing

  is quite illegal.'

  "'It is somewhat of a liberty, no doubt,' said he,

  'but we'll make it up to you. I must warn you,

  however, Mr. Melas, that if at any time to-night you

  attempt to raise an alarm or do anything which is

  against my interests, you will find it a very serious

  thing. I beg you to remember that no one knows where

  you are, and that, whether you are in this carriage or

  in my house, you are equally in my power.'

  "His words were quiet, but he had a rasping way of

  saying them which was very menacing. I sat in silence

  wondering what on earth could be his reason for

  kidnapping me in this extraordinary fashion. Whatever

  it might be, it was perfectly clear that there was no

  possible use in my resisting, and that I could only

  wait to see what might befall.

  "For nearly two hours we drove without my having the

  least clue as to where we were going. Sometimes the

  rattle of the stones told of a paved causeway, and at

  others our smooth, silent course suggested asphalt;

  but, save by this variation in sound, there was

  nothing at all which could in the remotest way help me

  to form a guess as to where we were. The paper over

  each window was impenetrable to light, and a blue

  curtain was drawn across the glass work in front. It

  was a quarter-past seven when we left Pall Mall, and

  my watch showed me that it was ten minutes to nine

  when we at last came to a standstill. My companion

  let down the window, and I caught a glimpse of a low,

  arched doorway with a lamp burning above it. As I was

  hurried from the carriage it swung open, and I found

  myself inside the house, with a vague impression of a

  lawn and trees on each side of me as I entered.

  Whether these were private grounds ,however, or

  bona-fide country was more than I could possibly

  venture to say.

  "There was a colored gas-lamp inside which was turned

  so low that I could see little save that the hall was

  of some size and hung with pictures. In the dim light

  I could make out that the person who had opened the

  door was a small, mean-looking, middle-aged man with

  rounded shoulders. As he turned towards us the glint

  of the light showed me that he was wearing glasses.

  "'Is this Mr. Melas, Harold?' said he.

  "'Yes.'

  "'Well done, well done! No ill-will, Mr. Melas, I

  hope, but we could not get on without you. If you

  deal fair with us you'll not regret it, but if you try

  any tricks, God help you!' He spoke in a nerv
ous,

  jerky fashion, and with little giggling laughs in

  between, but somehow he impressed me with fear more

  than the other.

  "'What do you want with me?' I asked.

  "'Only to ask a few questions of a Greek gentleman who

  is visiting us, and to let us have the answers. But

  say no more than you are told to say, or--' here came

  the nervous giggle again--'you had better never have

  been born.'

  "As he spoke he opened a door and showed the way into

  a room which appeared to be very richly furnished, but

  again the only light was afforded by a single lamp

  half-turned down. The chamber was certainly large,

  and the way in which my feet sank into the carpet as I

  stepped across it told me of its richness. I caught

  glimpses of velvet chairs, a high white marble

  mantel-piece, and what seemed to be a suit of Japanese

  armor at one side of it. There was a chair just under

  the lamp, and the elderly man motioned that I should

  sit in it. The younger had left us, but he suddenly

  returned through another door, leading with him a

  gentleman clad in some sort of loose dressing-gown who

  moved slowly towards us. As he came into the circle

  of dim light which enables me to see him more clearly

  I was thrilled with horror at his appearance. He was

  deadly pale and terribly emaciated, with the

  protruding, brilliant eyes of a man whose spirit was

  greater than his strength. But what shocked me more

  than any signs of physical weakness was that his face

  was grotesquely criss-crossed with sticking-plaster,

  and that one large pad of it was fastened over his

  mouth.

  "'Have you the slate, Harold?' cried the older man, as

  this strange being fell rather than sat down into a

  chair. 'Are his hands loose? Now, then, give him the

  pencil. You are to ask the questions, Mr. Melas, and

  he will write the answers. Ask him first of all

  whether he is prepared to sign the papers?'

  "The man's eyes flashed fire.

  "'Never!' he wrote in Greek upon the slate.

  "'On no condition?' I asked, at the bidding of our

  tyrant.

  "'Only if I see her married in my presence by a Greek

  priest whom I know.'

  "The man giggled in his venomous way.

  "'You know what awaits you, then?'

  "'I care nothing for myself.'

  "These are samples of the questions and answers which

  made up our strange half-spoken, half-written

  conversation. Again and again I had to ask him

  whether he would give in and sign the documents.

  Again and again I had the same indignant reply. But

  soon a happy thought came to me. I took to adding on

  little sentences of my own to each question, innocent

  ones at first, to test whether either of our

  companions knew anything of the matter, and then, as I

  found that they showed no signs I played a more

  dangerous game. Our conversation ran something like

  this:

  "'You can do no good by this obstinacy. Who are you?'

  "'I care not. I am a stranger in London.'

  "'Your fate will be upon your own head. How long have

  you been here?'

  "'Let it be so. Three weeks.'

  "'The property can never be yours. What ails you?'

  "'It shall not go to villains. They are starving me.'

  "'You shall go free if you sign. What house is this?'

  "'I will never sign. I do not know.'

  "'You are not doing her any service. What is your

  name?'

  "'Let me hear her say so. Kratides.'

  "'You shall see her if you sign. Where are you from?'

  "'Then I shall never see her. Athens.'

  "Another five minutes, Mr. Holmes, and I should have

  wormed out the whole story under their very noses. My

  very next question might have cleared the matter up,

  but at that instant the door opened and a woman

  stepped into the room. I could not see her clearly

  enough to know more than that she was tall and

  graceful, with black hair, and clad in some sort of

  loose white gown.

  "'Harold,' said she, speaking English with a broken

  accent. 'I could not stay away longer. It is so

  lonely up there with only--Oh, my God, it is Paul!'

  "These last words were in Greek, and at the same

  instant the man with a convulsive effort tore the

  plaster from his lips, and screaming out 'Sophy!

  Sophy!' rushed into the woman's arms. Their embrace

  was but for an instant, however, for the younger man

  seized the woman and pushed her out of the room, while

  the elder easily overpowered his emaciated victim, and

  dragged him away through the other door. For a moment

  I was left alone in the room, and I sprang to my feet

  with some vague idea that I might in some way get a

  clue to what this house was in which I found myself.

  Fortunately, however, I took no steps, for looking up

  I saw that the older man was standing in the door-way

  with his eyes fixed upon me.

  "'That will do, Mr. Melas,' said he. 'You perceive

  that we have taken you into our confidence over some

  very private business. We should not have troubled

  you, only that our friend who speaks Greek and who

  began these negotiations has been forced to return to

  the East. It was quite necessary for us to find some

  one to take his place, and we were fortunate in

  hearing of your powers.'

  "I bowed.

  "'There are five sovereigns here,' said he, walking up

  to me, 'which will, I hope, be a sufficient fee. But

  remember,' he added, tapping me lightly on the chest

  and giggling, 'if you speak to a human soul about

  this--one human soul, mind--well, may God have mercy

  upon your soul!"

  "I cannot tell you the loathing and horror with which

  this insignificant-looking man inspired me. I could

  see him better now as the lamp-light shone upon him.

  His features were peaky and sallow, and his little

  pointed beard was thready and ill-nourished. He

  pushed his face forward as he spoke and his lips and

  eyelids were continually twitching like a man with St.

  Vitus's dance. I could not help thinking that his

  strange, catchy little laugh was also a symptom of

  some nervous malady. The terror of his face lay in

  his eyes, however, steel gray, and glistening coldly

  with a malignant, inexorable cruelty in their depths.

  "'We shall know if you speak of this,' said he. 'We

  have our own means of information. Now you will find

  the carriage waiting, and my friend will see you on

  your way.'

  "I was hurried through the hall and into the vehicle,

  again obtaining that momentary glimpse of trees and a

  garden. Mr. Latimer followed closely at my heels, and

  took his place opposite to me without a word. In

  silence we again drove for an interminable distance

  with the windows raised, until at last, just after

  midnight, the carriage pulled up.
br />   "'You will get down here, Mr. Melas,' said my

  companion. 'I am sorry to leave you so far from your

  house, but there is no alternative. Any attempt upon

  your part to follow the carriage can only end in

  injury to yourself.'

  "He opened the door as he spoke, and I had hardly time

  to spring out when the coachman lashed the horse and

  the carriage rattled away. I looked around me in

  astonishment. I was on some sort of a heathy common

  mottled over with dark clumps of furze-bushes. Far

  away stretched a line of houses, with a light here and

  there in the upper windows. On the other side I saw

  the red signal-lamps of a railway.

  "The carriage which had brought me was already out of

  sight. I stood gazing round and wondering where on

  earth I might be, when I saw some one coming towards

  me in the darkness. As he came up to me I made out

  that he was a railway porter.

  "'Can you tell me what place this is?' I asked.

  "'Wandsworth Common,' said he.

  "'Can I get a train into town?'

  "'If you walk on a mile or so to Clapham Junction,'

  said he, 'you'll just be in time for the last to

  Victoria.'

  "So that was the end of my adventure, Mr. Holmes. I

  do not know where I was, nor whom I spoke with, nor

  anything save what I have told you. But I know that

  there is foul play going on, and I want to help that

  unhappy man if I can. I told the whole story to Mr.

  Mycroft Holmes next morning, and subsequently to the

  police."

  We all sat in silence for some little time after

  listening to this extraordinary narrative. Then

  Sherlock looked across at his brother.

  "Any steps?" he asked.

  Mycroft picked up the Daily News, which was lying on

  the side-table.

  "'Anybody supplying any information to the whereabouts

  of a Greek gentleman named Paul Kratides, from Athens,

  who is unable to speak English, will be rewarded. A

  similar reward paid to any one giving information

  about a Greek lady whose first name is Sophy. X

  2473.' That was in all the dailies. No answer."

  "How about the Greek Legation?"

  "I have inquired. They know nothing."

  "A wire to the head of the Athens police, then?"

  "Sherlock has all the energy of the family," said

  Mycroft, turning to me. "Well, you take the case up

  by all means, and let me know if you do any good."

  "Certainly," answered my friend, rising from his

  chair. "I'll let you know, and Mr. Melas also. In

  the meantime, Mr. Melas, I should certainly be on my

  guard, if I were you, for of course they must know

  through these advertisements that you have betrayed

  them."

  As we walked home together, Holmes stopped at a

  telegraph office and sent off several wires.

  "You see, Watson," he remarked, "our evening has been

  by no means wasted. Some of my most interesting cases

  have come to me in this way through Mycroft. The

  problem which we have just listened to, although it

  can admit of but one explanation, has still some

  distinguishing features."

  "You have hopes of solving it?"

  "Well, knowing as much as we do, it will be singular

  indeed if we fail to discover the rest. You must

  yourself have formed some theory which will explain

  the facts to which we have listened."

  "In a vague way, yes."

  "What was your idea, then?"

  "IT seemed to me to be obvious that this Greek girl

  had been carried off by the young Englishman named

  Harold Latimer."

  "Carried off from where?"

  "Athens, perhaps."

  Sherlock Holmes shook his head. "This young man could

  not talk a word of Greek. The lady could talk English

  fairly well. Inference--that she had been in England

  some little time, but he had not been in Greece."

  "Well, then, we will presume that she had come on a

  visit to England, and that this Harold had persuaded

  her to fly with him."

  "That is more probable."

  "Then the brother--for that, I fancy, must be the

  relationship--comes over from Greece to interfere. He

  imprudently puts himself into the power of the young

  man and his older associate. They seize him and use

  violence towards him in order to make him sign some