The Sign of the Four Read online

  Chapter X

  The End of the Islander

  Our meal was a merry one. Holmes could talk exceedingly well when hechose, and that night he did choose. He appeared to be in a state ofnervous exaltation. I have never known him so brilliant. He spoke ona quick succession of subjects,--on miracle-plays, on medieval pottery,on Stradivarius violins, on the Buddhism of Ceylon, and on thewar-ships of the future,--handling each as though he had made a specialstudy of it. His bright humor marked the reaction from his blackdepression of the preceding days. Athelney Jones proved to be asociable soul in his hours of relaxation, and faced his dinner with theair of a bon vivant. For myself, I felt elated at the thought that wewere nearing the end of our task, and I caught something of Holmes'sgaiety. None of us alluded during dinner to the cause which hadbrought us together.

  When the cloth was cleared, Holmes glanced at his watch, and filled upthree glasses with port. "One bumper," said he, "to the success of ourlittle expedition. And now it is high time we were off. Have you apistol, Watson?"

  "I have my old service-revolver in my desk."

  "You had best take it, then. It is well to be prepared. I see thatthe cab is at the door. I ordered it for half-past six."

  It was a little past seven before we reached the Westminster wharf, andfound our launch awaiting us. Holmes eyed it critically.

  "Is there anything to mark it as a police-boat?"

  "Yes,--that green lamp at the side."

  "Then take it off."

  The small change was made, we stepped on board, and the ropes were castoff. Jones, Holmes, and I sat in the stern. There was one man at therudder, one to tend the engines, and two burly police-inspectorsforward.

  "Where to?" asked Jones.

  "To the Tower. Tell them to stop opposite Jacobson's Yard."

  Our craft was evidently a very fast one. We shot past the long linesof loaded barges as though they were stationary. Holmes smiled withsatisfaction as we overhauled a river steamer and left her behind us.

  "We ought to be able to catch anything on the river," he said.

  "Well, hardly that. But there are not many launches to beat us."

  "We shall have to catch the Aurora, and she has a name for being aclipper. I will tell you how the land lies, Watson. You recollect howannoyed I was at being balked by so small a thing?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, I gave my mind a thorough rest by plunging into a chemicalanalysis. One of our greatest statesmen has said that a change of workis the best rest. So it is. When I had succeeded in dissolving thehydrocarbon which I was at work at, I came back to our problem of theSholtos, and thought the whole matter out again. My boys had been upthe river and down the river without result. The launch was not at anylanding-stage or wharf, nor had it returned. Yet it could hardly havebeen scuttled to hide their traces,--though that always remained as apossible hypothesis if all else failed. I knew this man Small had acertain degree of low cunning, but I did not think him capable ofanything in the nature of delicate finesse. That is usually a productof higher education. I then reflected that since he had certainly beenin London some time--as we had evidence that he maintained a continualwatch over Pondicherry Lodge--he could hardly leave at a moment'snotice, but would need some little time, if it were only a day, toarrange his affairs. That was the balance of probability, at any rate."

  "It seems to me to be a little weak," said I. "It is more probablethat he had arranged his affairs before ever he set out upon hisexpedition."

  "No, I hardly think so. This lair of his would be too valuable aretreat in case of need for him to give it up until he was sure that hecould do without it. But a second consideration struck me. JonathanSmall must have felt that the peculiar appearance of his companion,however much he may have top-coated him, would give rise to gossip, andpossibly be associated with this Norwood tragedy. He was quite sharpenough to see that. They had started from their head-quarters undercover of darkness, and he would wish to get back before it was broadlight. Now, it was past three o'clock, according to Mrs. Smith, whenthey got the boat. It would be quite bright, and people would be aboutin an hour or so. Therefore, I argued, they did not go very far. Theypaid Smith well to hold his tongue, reserved his launch for the finalescape, and hurried to their lodgings with the treasure-box. In acouple of nights, when they had time to see what view the papers took,and whether there was any suspicion, they would make their way undercover of darkness to some ship at Gravesend or in the Downs, where nodoubt they had already arranged for passages to America or theColonies."

  "But the launch? They could not have taken that to their lodgings."

  "Quite so. I argued that the launch must be no great way off, in spiteof its invisibility. I then put myself in the place of Small, andlooked at it as a man of his capacity would. He would probablyconsider that to send back the launch or to keep it at a wharf wouldmake pursuit easy if the police did happen to get on his track. How,then, could he conceal the launch and yet have her at hand when wanted?I wondered what I should do myself if I were in his shoes. I couldonly think of one way of doing it. I might land the launch over tosome boat-builder or repairer, with directions to make a triflingchange in her. She would then be removed to his shed or yard, and sobe effectually concealed, while at the same time I could have her at afew hours' notice."

  "That seems simple enough."

  "It is just these very simple things which are extremely liable to beoverlooked. However, I determined to act on the idea. I started atonce in this harmless seaman's rig and inquired at all the yards downthe river. I drew blank at fifteen, but at thesixteenth--Jacobson's--I learned that the Aurora had been handed overto them two days ago by a wooden-legged man, with some trivialdirections as to her rudder. 'There ain't naught amiss with herrudder,' said the foreman. 'There she lies, with the red streaks.' Atthat moment who should come down but Mordecai Smith, the missing owner?He was rather the worse for liquor. I should not, of course, haveknown him, but he bellowed out his name and the name of his launch. 'Iwant her to-night at eight o'clock,' said he,--'eight o'clock sharp,mind, for I have two gentlemen who won't be kept waiting.' They hadevidently paid him well, for he was very flush of money, chuckingshillings about to the men. I followed him some distance, but hesubsided into an ale-house: so I went back to the yard, and, happeningto pick up one of my boys on the way, I stationed him as a sentry overthe launch. He is to stand at water's edge and wave his handkerchiefto us when they start. We shall be lying off in the stream, and itwill be a strange thing if we do not take men, treasure, and all."

  "You have planned it all very neatly, whether they are the right men ornot," said Jones; "but if the affair were in my hands I should have hada body of police in Jacobson's Yard, and arrested them when they camedown."

  "Which would have been never. This man Small is a pretty shrewdfellow. He would send a scout on ahead, and if anything made himsuspicious lie snug for another week."

  "But you might have stuck to Mordecai Smith, and so been led to theirhiding-place," said I.

  "In that case I should have wasted my day. I think that it is a hundredto one against Smith knowing where they live. As long as he has liquorand good pay, why should he ask questions? They send him messages whatto do. No, I thought over every possible course, and this is the best."

  While this conversation had been proceeding, we had been shooting thelong series of bridges which span the Thames. As we passed the Citythe last rays of the sun were gilding the cross upon the summit of St.Paul's. It was twilight before we reached the Tower.

  "That is Jacobson's Yard," said Holmes, pointing to a bristle of mastsand rigging on the Surrey side. "Cruise gently up and down here undercover of this string of lighters." He took a pair of night-glassesfrom his pocket and gazed some time at the shore. "I see my sentry athis post," he remarked, "but no sign of a handkerchief."

  "Suppose we go down-stream a short way and lie in wait for them," saidJones, eagerl
y. We were all eager by this time, even the policemen andstokers, who had a very vague idea of what was going forward.

  "We have no right to take anything for granted," Holmes answered. "Itis certainly ten to one that they go down-stream, but we cannot becertain. From this point we can see the entrance of the yard, and theycan hardly see us. It will be a clear night and plenty of light. Wemust stay where we are. See how the folk swarm over yonder in thegaslight."

  "They are coming from work in the yard."

  "Dirty-looking rascals, but I suppose every one has some littleimmortal spark concealed about him. You would not think it, to look atthem. There is no a priori probability about it. A strange enigma isman!"

  "Some one calls him a soul concealed in an animal," I suggested.

  "Winwood Reade is good upon the subject," said Holmes. "He remarksthat, while the individual man is an insoluble puzzle, in the aggregatehe becomes a mathematical certainty. You can, for example, neverforetell what any one man will do, but you can say with precision whatan average number will be up to. Individuals vary, but percentagesremain constant. So says the statistician. But do I see ahandkerchief? Surely there is a white flutter over yonder."

  "Yes, it is your boy," I cried. "I can see him plainly."

  "And there is the Aurora," exclaimed Holmes, "and going like the devil!Full speed ahead, engineer. Make after that launch with the yellowlight. By heaven, I shall never forgive myself if she proves to havethe heels of us!"

  She had slipped unseen through the yard-entrance and passed behind twoor three small craft, so that she had fairly got her speed up before wesaw her. Now she was flying down the stream, near in to the shore,going at a tremendous rate. Jones looked gravely at her and shook hishead.

  "She is very fast," he said. "I doubt if we shall catch her."

  "We MUST catch her!" cried Holmes, between his teeth. "Heap it on,stokers! Make her do all she can! If we burn the boat we must havethem!"

  We were fairly after her now. The furnaces roared, and the powerfulengines whizzed and clanked, like a great metallic heart. Her sharp,steep prow cut through the river-water and sent two rolling waves toright and to left of us. With every throb of the engines we sprang andquivered like a living thing. One great yellow lantern in our bowsthrew a long, flickering funnel of light in front of us. Right ahead adark blur upon the water showed where the Aurora lay, and the swirl ofwhite foam behind her spoke of the pace at which she was going. Weflashed past barges, steamers, merchant-vessels, in and out, behindthis one and round the other. Voices hailed us out of the darkness,but still the Aurora thundered on, and still we followed close upon hertrack.

  "Pile it on, men, pile it on!" cried Holmes, looking down into theengine-room, while the fierce glow from below beat upon his eager,aquiline face. "Get every pound of steam you can."

  "I think we gain a little," said Jones, with his eyes on the Aurora.

  "I am sure of it," said I. "We shall be up with her in a very fewminutes."

  At that moment, however, as our evil fate would have it, a tug withthree barges in tow blundered in between us. It was only by puttingour helm hard down that we avoided a collision, and before we couldround them and recover our way the Aurora had gained a good two hundredyards. She was still, however, well in view, and the murky uncertaintwilight was setting into a clear starlit night. Our boilers werestrained to their utmost, and the frail shell vibrated and creaked withthe fierce energy which was driving us along. We had shot through thePool, past the West India Docks, down the long Deptford Reach, and upagain after rounding the Isle of Dogs. The dull blur in front of usresolved itself now clearly enough into the dainty Aurora. Jonesturned our search-light upon her, so that we could plainly see thefigures upon her deck. One man sat by the stern, with something blackbetween his knees over which he stooped. Beside him lay a dark masswhich looked like a Newfoundland dog. The boy held the tiller, whileagainst the red glare of the furnace I could see old Smith, stripped tothe waist, and shovelling coals for dear life. They may have had somedoubt at first as to whether we were really pursuing them, but now aswe followed every winding and turning which they took there could nolonger be any question about it. At Greenwich we were about threehundred paces behind them. At Blackwall we could not have been morethan two hundred and fifty. I have coursed many creatures in manycountries during my checkered career, but never did sport give me sucha wild thrill as this mad, flying man-hunt down the Thames. Steadilywe drew in upon them, yard by yard. In the silence of the night wecould hear the panting and clanking of their machinery. The man in thestern still crouched upon the deck, and his arms were moving as thoughhe were busy, while every now and then he would look up and measurewith a glance the distance which still separated us. Nearer we cameand nearer. Jones yelled to them to stop. We were not more than fourboat's lengths behind them, both boats flying at a tremendous pace. Itwas a clear reach of the river, with Barking Level upon one side andthe melancholy Plumstead Marshes upon the other. At our hail the manin the stern sprang up from the deck and shook his two clinched fistsat us, cursing the while in a high, cracked voice. He was a good-sized,powerful man, and as he stood poising himself with legs astride I couldsee that from the thigh downwards there was but a wooden stump upon theright side. At the sound of his strident, angry cries there wasmovement in the huddled bundle upon the deck. It straightened itselfinto a little black man--the smallest I have ever seen--with a great,misshapen head and a shock of tangled, dishevelled hair. Holmes hadalready drawn his revolver, and I whipped out mine at the sight of thissavage, distorted creature. He was wrapped in some sort of dark ulsteror blanket, which left only his face exposed; but that face was enoughto give a man a sleepless night. Never have I seen features so deeplymarked with all bestiality and cruelty. His small eyes glowed andburned with a sombre light, and his thick lips were writhed back fromhis teeth, which grinned and chattered at us with a half animal fury.

  "Fire if he raises his hand," said Holmes, quietly. We were within aboat's-length by this time, and almost within touch of our quarry. Ican see the two of them now as they stood, the white man with his legsfar apart, shrieking out curses, and the unhallowed dwarf with hishideous face, and his strong yellow teeth gnashing at us in the lightof our lantern.

  It was well that we had so clear a view of him. Even as we looked heplucked out from under his covering a short, round piece of wood, likea school-ruler, and clapped it to his lips. Our pistols rang outtogether. He whirled round, threw up his arms, and with a kind ofchoking cough fell sideways into the stream. I caught one glimpse ofhis venomous, menacing eyes amid the white swirl of the waters. At thesame moment the wooden-legged man threw himself upon the rudder and putit hard down, so that his boat made straight in for the southern bank,while we shot past her stern, only clearing her by a few feet. We wereround after her in an instant, but she was already nearly at the bank.It was a wild and desolate place, where the moon glimmered upon a wideexpanse of marsh-land, with pools of stagnant water and beds ofdecaying vegetation. The launch with a dull thud ran up upon themud-bank, with her bow in the air and her stern flush with the water.The fugitive sprang out, but his stump instantly sank its whole lengthinto the sodden soil. In vain he struggled and writhed. Not one stepcould he possibly take either forwards or backwards. He yelled inimpotent rage, and kicked frantically into the mud with his other foot,but his struggles only bored his wooden pin the deeper into the stickybank. When we brought our launch alongside he was so firmly anchoredthat it was only by throwing the end of a rope over his shoulders thatwe were able to haul him out, and to drag him, like some evil fish,over our side. The two Smiths, father and son, sat sullenly in theirlaunch, but came aboard meekly enough when commanded. The Auroraherself we hauled off and made fast to our stern. A solid iron chestof Indian workmanship stood upon the deck. This, there could be noquestion, was the same that had contained the ill-omened treasure ofthe Sholtos. There was no key, but it was of considerable
weight, sowe transferred it carefully to our own little cabin. As we steamedslowly up-stream again, we flashed our search-light in every direction,but there was no sign of the Islander. Somewhere in the dark ooze atthe bottom of the Thames lie the bones of that strange visitor to ourshores.

  "See here," said Holmes, pointing to the wooden hatchway. "We werehardly quick enough with our pistols." There, sure enough, just behindwhere we had been standing, stuck one of those murderous darts which weknew so well. It must have whizzed between us at the instant that wefired. Holmes smiled at it and shrugged his shoulders in his easyfashion, but I confess that it turned me sick to think of the horribledeath which had passed so close to us that night.