A Study In Scarlet (Sherlock Holmes) - Part 3

A Study in Scarlet is an 1887 detective novel by British writer Arthur Conan Doyle. The story marks the first appearance of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson, who would become the most famous detective duo in literature.

Transcript

VII.

Light in the Darkness The intelligence with which Lestrade greeted us was so momentous and unexpected that we were all three fairly dumbfounded.

Gregson sprang out from his chair and upset the remainder of his whiskey and water.

I stared in silence at Sherlock Holmes,

Whose lips were compressed and his brows drawn down over his eyes.

"'Stanjerson,

Too,

' he muttered.

"'The plot thickens.

' "'It was quite thick enough before,

' grumbled Lestrade,

Taking a chair.

I seem to have dropped into a sort of a council of war.

' "'Are you—' "'Are you sure of this piece of intelligence?

' stammered Gregson.

"'I have just come from his room,

' said Lestrade.

I was the first to discover what had occurred.

' "'We've been hearing Gregson's view of the matter,

' Holmes observed.

Would you mind letting us know what you have seen and done?

' "'I have no objection,

' Lestrade answered,

Seating himself.

"'I freely confess that I was of the opinion that Stanjerson was concerned in the death of Draber.

This fresh development has shown me that I was completely mistaken.

Full of the A1 idea,

I set myself to find out what had become of the secretary.

They had been seen together at Euston Station about half past eight on the evening of the third.

At two in the morning Draber had been found in the Brixton Road.

The question which confronted me was to find out how Stanjerson had been employed between eight thirty and the time of the crime,

And what had become of him afterwards.

I telegraphed to Liverpool,

Giving a description of the man,

And warning them to keep a watch upon the American boats.

I then set to work calling upon all the hotels and lodging houses in the vicinity of Euston.

You see,

I argue that if Draber and his companion had been separated,

The natural course for the latter would be to put up somewhere in the vicinity for the night,

And then to hang about the station again next morning.

They would be likely to agree on some meeting place beforehand,

" remarked Holmes.

So it proved.

I spent the whole of yesterday evening in making inquiries entirely without avail.

This morning I began very early,

And at eight o'clock I reached Halliday's Private Hotel in Little George Street.

On my inquiry as to whether a Mr.

Stanjerson was living there,

They at once answered me in the affirmative.

"'No doubt you are the gentleman whom he was expecting,

' they said.

"'He has been waiting for a gentleman for two days.

' "'Where's he now?

' I asked.

"'He is upstairs in bed.

He wished to be called at nine.

' "'I will go up and see him at once,

' I said.

" It seemed to me that my sudden appearance might shake his nerves and lead him to say something unguarded.

The boots volunteered to show me the room.

It was on the second floor,

And there was a small corridor leading up to it.

The boots pointed out the door to me and was about to go downstairs again when I saw something that made me feel sickish in spite of my twenty years' experience.

From under the door there curled a little red ribbon of blood,

Which had mendered across the passage and formed a little pool along the skirting at the other side.

I gave a cry,

Which brought the boots back.

He nearly fainted when he saw it.

The door was locked on the inside,

But we put our shoulders to it and knocked it in.

The window of the room was open,

And beside the window all huddled up lay the body of a man in his night dress.

He was quite dead,

And had been for some time,

For his limbs were rigid and cold.

When we turned him over,

The boots recognized him at once as being the same gentleman who had engaged the room under the name of Joseph Stangerson.

The cause of death was a deep stab in the left side,

Which must have penetrated the heart.

And now comes the strangest part of the affair.

What do you suppose was above the murdered man?

I felt a creeping of the flesh and a presentiment of coming horror,

Even before Sherlock Holmes answered.

The word Rage written in letters of blood,

He said.

That was it,

Said Lestrade,

In an awestruck voice,

And we were all silent for a while.

There was something so methodical and so incomprehensible about the deeds of this unknown assassin that it imparted a fresh ghastliness to his crimes.

My nerves,

Which were steady enough on the feel of battle,

Tingled as I thought of it.

The man was seen,

Continued Lestrade.

A milkboy,

Passing on his way to the dairy,

Happened to walk down the lane which leads from the muse at the back of the hotel.

He noticed that a ladder which usually lay there was raised against one of the windows of the second floor,

Which was wide open.

After passing,

He looked back and saw a man descend the ladder.

He came down so quietly and openly that the boy imagined to be some carpenter or joiner at work in the hotel.

He took no particular notice of him,

Beyond thinking in his mind that it was early for him to be at work.

He has an impression that the man was tall,

Had a reddish face,

And was dressed in a long brownish coat.

He must have stayed in the room some little time after the murder,

For we found blood-stained water in the basin where he had washed his hands,

And marks on the sheets where he had deliberately wiped his knife.

I glanced at Holmes on hearing the description of the murderer,

Which tallied so exactly with his own.

There was,

However,

No trace of exaltation or satisfaction upon his face.

Did you find nothing in the room which could furnish a clue to the murderer,

He asked.

Nothing.

Stengersen had reberspursed in his pocket,

But it seems that this was usual,

As he did all the paying.

There was eighty odd pounds in it,

But nothing had been taken.

Whatever the motives of these extraordinary crimes,

Robbery is certainly not one of them.

There were no papers or memoranda in the murdered man's pocket,

Except a single telegram dated from Cleveland about a month ago,

And containing the words,

J.

H.

Is in Europe.

There was no name appended to this message.

And there was nothing else,

Holmes asked.

Nothing of any importance.

The man's novel,

With which he had read himself to sleep,

Was lying upon the bed,

And his pipe was in a chair beside him.

There was a glass of water on the table,

And on the window-sill a small chip ointment box,

Containing a couple of pills.

Sherlock Holmes sprang from his chair with an exclamation of delight.

"'The last link,

' he cried exultantly.

"'My case is complete.

' The two detectives stared at him in amazement.

"'I have now in my hands,

' my companion said confidently,

"'all the threads which have formed such a tangle.

' There are,

Of course,

Details to be filled in,

But I am as certain of all the main facts from the time that Draber departed from Stengersen at the station,

Up to the discovery of the body of the latter,

As if I had seen them with my own eyes.

I will give you a proof of my knowledge.

Could you lay your hand upon those pills?

' "'I have them,

' said Lestrade,

Producing a small white box.

I took them in the purse and the telegram,

Intending to have them put in a place of safety at the police station.

It was the merest chance my taking these pills,

For I am bound to say that I do not attach any importance to them.

' "'Give them here,

' said Holmes.

"'Now,

Doctor,

' turning to me,

"'are those ordinary pills?

' "'They certainly were not.

They were of a pearly grey colour,

Small,

Round,

And almost transparent against the light.

From their lightness and transparency,

I should imagine that they are soluble in water,

' I remarked.

' "'Precisely so,

' answered Holmes.

"'Now,

Would you mind going down and fetching that poor little devil of a terrier,

Which has been bad so long,

And which the landlady wanted you to put out of its pain yesterday?

' I went downstairs and carried the dog upstairs in my arms.

Its laboured breathing and glazing eye showed that it was not far from its end.

Indeed,

Its snow-white muzzle proclaimed that it had already exceeded the usual term of canine existence.

I placed it upon a cushion on the rug.

"'I will now cut one of those pills in two,

' said Holmes,

And drawing his penknife,

He suited the action to the word.

One half will return into the box for future purpose.

The other half I will place in this wine-glass,

In which is a teaspoonful of water.

You perceive that our friend the doctor is right,

And that it readily dissolves.

' "'This may be very interesting,

' said Lestrade,

In the injured tone of one who suspects that he is being laughed at.

I cannot see,

However,

What it has to do with the death of Mr.

Joseph Stangerson.

' "'Patience,

My friend,

Patience.

You will find in time that it has everything to do with it.

I shall now add a little milk to make the mixture palatable,

And on presenting it to the dog we find that he laps it up readily enough.

' As he spoke,

He turned the contents of the wine-glass into a saucer and placed it in front of the terrier,

Who speedily licked it dry.

Sherlock Holmes's earnest demeanour had so far convinced us that we all sat in silence,

Watching the animal intently and expecting some startling effect.

None such appeared,

However.

The dog continued to lie stretched upon the cushion,

Breathing in in a laboured way.

But apparently neither the better nor the worse were its draught.

Holmes had taken out his watch,

And as minute followed minute without result,

An expression of the utmost chagrin and disappointment appeared upon his features.

He gnawed his lip,

Drummed his fingers upon the table,

And showed every other symptom of acute impatience.

So great was his emotion that I felt sincerely sorry for him.

While the two detectives smiled derisively,

By no means displeased at this check which he had met.

"'It can't be a coincidence,

' he cried,

At last springing from his chair and pacing wildly up and down the room.

It is impossible that it should be a mere coincidence.

The very pills which I suspect in the case of Drever are actually found after the death of Stangerson.

And yet they are inert.

What can it mean?

Surely my whole chain of reasoning cannot have been false.

It is impossible.

And yet this wretched dog is none the worse.

' "'Ah,

I have it.

I have it.

' With a perfect shriek of delight he rushed to the box,

Cut the other pill in two,

Dissolved it,

Added milk,

And presented it to the terrier.

The unfortunate creature's tongue seemed hardly to have been moistened in it before it gave a convulsive shiver in every limb,

And lay as rigid and lifeless as if it had been struck by lightning.

Sherlock Holmes drew a long breath,

And wiped the perspiration from his forehead.

"'I should have more faith,

' he said.

I ought to know by the time that when a fact appears to be opposed to a long train of deductions,

It invariably proves to be capable of bearing some other interpretation.

Of the two pills in that box,

One was the most deadly poison,

And the other was entirely harmless.

I ought to have known that before ever I saw the box at all.

This last statement appeared to me to be so startling that I could hardly believe that he was in his sober senses.

There was the dead dog,

However,

To prove that his conjecture had been correct.

It seemed to me that the mists in my own mind were gradually clearing away,

And I began to have a dim,

Vague perception of the truth.

"'All this seems strange to you,

' continued Holmes,

"'because you failed at the beginning of the inquiry to grasp the importance of the single real clue which was presented to you.

I had the good fortune of to seize upon that,

And everything that has occurred since then has served to confer my original supposition,

And,

Indeed,

Was a logical sequence of it.

Hence things which have perplexed you and made the case more obscure have served to enlighten me and to strengthen my conclusions.

It was a mistake to confound strangeness with mystery.

The most commonplace crime is often the most mysterious,

Because it presents no new or special features from which deductions may be drawn.

This murder would have been infinitely more difficult to unravel had the body of the victim been simply found lying in the roadway without any of those autres,

And sensational accompaniments which have rendered it remarkable.

These strange details,

Far from making the case more difficult,

Have really had the effect of making it less so.

" Mr.

Gregson,

Who had listened to this address with considerable impatience,

Could contain himself no longer.

"'Look here,

Mr.

Sherlock Holmes,

' he said.

"'We are all ready to acknowledge that you are a smart man,

And that you have your own methods of working.

We want something more than mere theory and preaching now,

Though.

It is a case of taking the man.

I have made my case out,

And it seems I was wrong.

' Young Charpentier could not have been engaged in this second affair.

Lestrade went after this man,

Stangerson,

And it appears that he was wrong too.

You have thrown out hints here,

And hints there,

And seem to know more than we do.

But the time had come when we feel that we have the right to ask you straight how much do you know of the business.

Can you name the man who did it?

' "'I cannot help feeling that Gregson is right,

Sir,

' remarked Lestrade.

"'We have both tried and we have both failed.

You have remarked more than once,

Since I have been in this room,

That you had all the evidence which you require.

Surely you will not withhold it any longer.

' "'Any delay in arresting the assassin,

' I observed,

Might give him time to perpetrate some fresh atrocity.

' Thus,

Pressed by us all,

Holmes showed signs of irresolution.

He continued to walk up and down the room with his head sunk on his chest and his brows drawn down,

As was his habit when lost in thought.

"'There will be no more murders,

' he said at last,

Stopping abruptly and facing us.

He can put that consideration out of the question.

You have asked me if I know the name of the assassin.

I do.

The mere knowing of his name is a small thing,

However,

Compared with the power of laying our hands upon him.

This I expect very shortly to do.

I have good hopes of managing it through my own arrangements.

But it is a thing which needs delicate handling,

For we have a shrewd and desperate man to deal with,

Who is supported,

As I have had the occasion to prove,

By another who is as clever as himself.

As long as this man has no idea that anyone can have a clue,

There is some chance of securing him.

But if he had the slightest suspicion,

He would change his name and vanish in an instant among the four million inhabitants of this great city.

Without meaning to hurt either of your feelings,

I am bound to say that I consider these men to be more than a match for the official force,

And that is why I have not asked for your assistance.

If I fail,

I shall,

Of course,

Incur all the blame due to this omission.

But that I am prepared for.

At present,

I am ready to promise that the instant that I can communicate with you without endangering my own combinations,

I shall do so.

Grexen and Lestrade seemed to be far from satisfied by this assurance,

Or by the depreciating illusion to the detective police.

The former had flushed up the roots of his flaxen hair,

While the other's beady eyes glistened with curiosity and resentment.

Neither of them had time to speak,

However,

Before there was a tap at the door,

And the spokesman of the street Arabs,

Young Wiggings,

Introduced his insignificant and unsavory person.

"'Please,

Sir,

' he said,

Touching his forelock,

"'I have the cab downstairs.

' "'Good boy,

' said Holmes,

Blandly.

"'Why don't you introduce this pattern at Scotland Yard?

' he continued,

Taking a pair of steel handcuffs from a drawer.

"'See how beautifully the spring works.

' They fasten in an instant.

"'The old pattern is good enough,

' remarked Lestrade.

"'If we can only find the man to put them on.

' "'Very good,

Very good,

' said Holmes,

Smiling.

"'The cabman may as well help me with my boxes.

Just ask him to step up,

Wiggings.

' I was surprised to find my companion speaking as though he were about to set out on a journey,

Since he had not said anything to me about it.

There was a small portmanteau in the room.

In this he pulled out and began to strap.

He was busily engaged at it when the cabman entered the room.

"'Just give me a help with this buckle,

Cabman,

' he said,

Kneeling over his task and never turning his head.

The fellow came forward with a somewhat sullen,

Defiant air,

And put down his hands to assist.

At that instant there was a sharp click,

The jangling of metal,

And Sherlock Holmes sprang to his feet again.

"'Gentlemen,

' he cried with flashing eyes,

"'let me introduce to you Mr.

Jefferson Hope,

The murderer of Enoch Drebber and of Joseph Stangerson.

' The whole thing occurred in a moment,

So quickly that I had no time to realize it.

I have a vivid recollection of that instant,

Of Holmes' triumphant expression in the ring of his voice,

Of the cabman's dazed savage face as he glared at the glittering handcuffs which had appeared as if by magic upon his wrists.

For a second or two we might have been a group of statues.

' Then,

With an inarticulate roar of fury,

The prisoner wrenched himself free from Holmes' grasp and hurled himself through the door.

Woodwork and glass gave way before him,

But before he got quite through,

Wrexon Lestrade and Holmes sprang upon him like so many staghounds.

He was dragged back into the room,

And then commenced a terrific conflict.

So powerful and so fierce was he that the four of us were shaken off again and again.

He appeared to have the convulsive strength of a man in an epileptic fit.

His face and hands were terribly mangled by his passage through the glass,

But loss of blood had no effect in diminishing his resistance.

It was not until Lestrade succeeded in getting his hand inside his neck cloth and half strangling him that we made him realize that his struggles were of no avail.

And even then we felt no security until we had pinioned his feet as well as his hands.

That done,

We rose to our feet breathless and panting.

We have his cab,

Said Sherlock Holmes.

It will serve to take him to Scotland Yard.

And now,

Gentlemen,

He continued with a pleasant smile,

We have reached the end of our little mystery.

You are very welcome to put any questions that you like to me now,

And there is no danger that I will refuse to answer them.

Part II.

The Country of the Saints.

Chapter 1.

On the Great Alkali Plain.

In the central portion of the great North American continent there lies an arid and repulsive desert,

Which for many a long year served as a barrier against the advance of civilization.

From the Sierra Nevada to Nebraska,

And from the Yellowstone River in the north to the Colorado upon the south,

Is a region of desolation and silence.

Nor is nature always in one mood throughout this grim district.

It comprises snow-capped and lofty mountains,

And dark and gloomy valleys.

There are swift flowing rivers which dash through jagged canyons,

And there are enormous plains,

Which in winter are white with snow,

And in summer are gray with a sally and alkali dust.

They all preserve,

However,

The common characteristics of barrenness,

Inhospitability,

And misery.

There are no inhabitants of this land of despair.

A band of Pawnees or of black feet may occasionally traverse it in order to reach other hunting grounds,

But the hardiest of the braves are glad to lose sight of those awesome plains,

And to find themselves once more upon their prairies.

The coyote scalls among the scrub,

And buzzard flaps heavily throughout the air,

And the clumsy grizzly bear lumbers through the dark ravines,

And picks up such sustenance as it can amongst the rocks.

These are the sole dwellers in the wilderness.

In the whole world there can be no more dreary view than that from the northern slope of the Sierra Blanco.

As far as the eye can reach stretches the great flat plain land,

All dusted over with patches of alkali,

And intersected by clumps of the dwarfish-strap-aral bushes.

On the extreme verge of the horizon lie a long chain of mountain peaks,

With the rugged summits flecked with snow.

In this great stretch of country there is no sign of life,

Nor of anything appertaining to life.

There is no bird in the steel-blue heaven,

No movement upon the dull,

Grey earth.

Above all there is absolute silence.

Listen,

As one may,

There is no shadow of a sound in all that mighty wilderness.

Nothing but silence.

Complete and heart-subduing silence.

It has been said there is nothing appertaining to life upon the broad plain.

That is hardly true.

Looking down from the Sierra Blanco one sees a pathway traced out across the desert,

Which winds away and is lost in the extreme distance.

It is rutted with wheels and trodden down by the feet of many adventurers.

Here and there there are scattered white objects which glisten in the sun,

And stand out against a dull deposit of alkali.

Approach and examine them.

They are bones,

Some large and coarse,

Others smaller and more delicate.

The former have belonged to oxen,

And the latter to men.

For fifteen hundred miles one may trace this ghastly caravan route by these scattered remains of those who had fallen by the wayside.

Looking down on this very scene,

There stood upon the fourth of May,

Eighteen hundred and forty-seven,

A solitary traveller.

His appearance was such that he might have been the very genius or demon of the region.

An observer would have found it difficult to say whether he was nearer to forty or to sixty.

His face was lean and haggard,

And the brown parchment-like skin was drawn tightly over the projecting bones.

His long brown hair and beard were all flecked and dashed with white.

His eyes were sunken in his head,

And burned with an unnatural luster,

While the hand which grasped his rifle was hardly more fleshy than that of a skeleton.

As he stood,

He leaned upon his weapon for support,

And yet his tall figure and the massive framework of his bones suggested a wiry and vigorous constitution.

His gaunt face,

However,

And his clothes,

Which hung so baggily over his shriveled limbs,

Proclaimed what it was that gave him that senile and decrepit appearance.

The man was dying,

Dying from hunger and from thirst.

He had toiled painfully down the ravine,

And on to this little elevation,

In the vain hope of seeing some signs of water.

Now the great salt plain stretched before his eyes,

And the distant belt of savage mountains,

Without a sign anywhere of plant or tree,

Which might indicate the presence of moisture.

In all that broad landscape there was no gleam of hope.

North and east and west he looked,

With wild questioning eyes,

And then he realized that his wandering had come to an end,

And that there,

On that barren crag,

He was about to die.

Why not here,

As well as in a feather bed,

Twenty years hence?

He muttered,

As he seated himself in the shelter of a boulder.

Before sitting down,

He had deposited upon the ground his useless rifle,

And also a large bundle tied up in a gray shawl,

Which he had carried slung over his right shoulder.

It appeared to be somewhat too heavy for his strength,

For in lowering it,

It came down on the ground with some little violence.

Instantly there broke from the gray parcel a little moaning cry,

And from it there protruded a small,

Scared face,

With very bright brown eyes,

And two little speckled dimpled fists.

"'You've heard me,

' said a childish voice reproachfully.

"'Have I,

Though?

' the man answered penitently.

"'I didn't go forth to do it.

' As he spoke he unwrapped the gray shawl and extricated a pretty little girl of about five years of age,

Whose dainty shoes and smart pink frock,

With its little linen apron,

All bespoke a mother's care.

The child was pale and wan,

But her healthy arms and legs showed that she had suffered less than her companion.

"'How is it now?

' he answered anxiously,

For she was still rubbing the townsie golden curls which covered the back of her head.

"'Kiss it and make it well,

' she said,

With perfect gravity,

Showing the injured part up to him.

That's what mother used to do.

Where's mother?

' "'Mother's gone.

I guess you'll see her before long.

' "'Gone,

Eh?

' said the little girl.

Funny,

She didn't say good-bye.

She most always did if she was just going over to auntie's for tea.

And now she's been away three days.

Say,

It's awfully dry,

Ain't it?

Ain't there no water nor nothing to eat?

' "'No,

There ain't nothing,

Dearie.

You'll just need to be patient a while.

Then you'll be all right.

Put your head up again,

Me,

Like that,

And then you'll feel bullier.

It ain't easy to talk when your lips is like leather.

But I'd guess I'd best let you know how the cards lie.

' "'What's that you've got?

' "'Pretty things.

Fine things,

' cried the little girl enthusiastically,

Holding up two glittering fragments of mica.

When we goes back to home,

I'll give them to my brother Bob.

' "'You'll see prettier things than them soon,

' said the man confidently.

You just wait a bit.

I was going to tell you,

Though.

You remember when we left the river?

' "'Oh,

Yes.

' "'Well,

We reckon we'd strike another river soon,

You see.

Whether it was something wrong.

Compasses,

Or map,

Or something.

And it didn't turn up.

Water ran out.

Just accept a little drop for the likes of you,

And.

.

.

' "'And you couldn't wash yourself?

' interrupted his companion gravely,

Staring up at his grimy visage.

No,

Nor drink.

And Mr.

Bender,

He was the first to go.

And then Indian Pete.

And then Mrs.

McGregor.

And then Johnny Hones.

And then,

Dearie,

Your mother.

' "'Then mother's a deader,

Too,

' cried the little girl,

Dropping her face in her pinafore and sobbing bitterly.

Yes,

They all went except you and me.

Then I thought that there was some chance of water in this direction.

So I heaved you over my shoulder and we tramped it together.

We don't see him as though we've improved matters.

There's an almighty small chance for us now.

' "'Do you mean that we are going to die,

Too?

' asked the child,

Checking her sobs and raising her tear-stained face.

"'I guess that's about the size of it.

' "'Why didn't you say so before?

' she said,

Laughing gleefully.

You gave me such a fright.

Why,

Of course,

Now as long as we die we'll be with mother again.

' "'Yes,

You will,

Dearie.

' "'And you,

Too.

I'll tell her how awful good you've been.

I'll bet she meets us at the door of heaven,

With a big pitcher of water and a lot of buckwheat cakes,

Hot and toasted on both sides,

Like Bob and me was fond of.

How long will it be first?

' "'I don't know.

Not very long.

' The man's eyes were fixated upon the northern horizon.

In the blue vault of the heaven there had appeared three little specks which increased in size every moment.

So rapidly did they approach.

They speedily resolved themselves into three large brown birds,

Which circled over the heads of the two wanderers,

And then settled upon some rocks which overlooked them.

They were buzzards,

The vultures of the West,

Whose coming is a forerunner of death.

"'Cocks and hens!

' cried the little girl gleefully,

Pointing at their ill-omened forms,

And clapping her hands to make them rise.

"'Say,

Did God make this country?

' "'Of course he did,

' said her companion,

Rather startled by this unexpected question.

"'He made the country down in Illinois,

And he made the Missouri,

' the little girl continued.

"'I guess somebody else made the country in these parts.

It's not nearly so well done.

They forgot the water and the trees.

' "'What would you think of offering up a prayer?

' the man asked diffidently.

"'It ain't night yet,

' she answered.

"'It don't matter.

It ain't quite regular.

But he won't mind that,

You bet.

You say over them ones that you used to say every night in the wagon,

When we was on the plains.

' "'Why don't you say some yourself?

' the child asked with wandering eyes.

"'I disremembered them,

' he answered.

"'I ain't said none since I was half the eight on that gun.

I guess it's never too late.

You say them out,

And I'll stand by and come in on the courses.

' "'Then you'll need to kneel down,

And me too,

' she said,

Laying the shawl out for that purpose.

"'You've got to put your hands up like this.

It makes you feel kind of good.

' "'It was a strange sight,

Had there been anything but the buzzers to see it.

Side by side on the narrow shawl knelt the two wanderers,

The little prattling child and the reckless hardened adventurer.

Her chubby face and his haggard angular visage were both turned up to the cloudless heaven in heartfelt entreaty to that dread being with whom they were face to face,

While the child fell asleep nestling upon the broad breast of the protector.

He watched over her slumber for some time,

But nature proved to be too strong for him.

For three days and three nights he had allowed himself neither rest nor repose.

Slowly the eyelids drooped over the tired eyes,

And the head sunk lower and lower upon the breast,

Until the man's grizzled beard was mixed with the gold tresses of his companion,

And both slapped the same deep and dreamless slumber.

Had the wanderer remained awake for another half hour,

A strange sight would have met his eyes.

Far away,

On the extreme verge of the alkali plain,

There rose up a little spray of dust,

Very slight at first,

And hardly to be distinguished from the mists of the distance,

But gradually growing higher and broader until it formed a solid,

Well-defined cloud.

This cloud continued to increase in size until it became evident that it could only be raised by a great multitude of moving creatures.

In more fertile spots,

The observer would have come to the conclusion that one of those great herds of bison which grazed upon the prairie land was approaching him.

This was obviously impossible in these arid wilds.

As the whirl of dust drew nearer to the solitary bluff upon which the two castaways were reposing,

The canvas covered tilts of wagons,

And the figures of armed horsemen began to show up through the haze,

And the apparition revealed itself as being a great caravan upon its journey for the west.

But what a caravan!

When the head of it had reached the base of the mountains,

The rear was not yet visible on the horizon.

Right across the enormous plain stretched the straggling array,

Wagons and carts,

Men on horseback and men on foot,

Innumerable women who staggered along on their burdens,

And children who toddled beside the wagons or peeped out from under the white coverings.

This was evidently no ordinary party of immigrants,

But rather some nomad people who had been compelled from stress of circumstances to seek themselves a new country.

There rose through the air a confused clattering and rumbling from this great mass of humanity,

With the creaking of wheels and the neighing of horses.

Loud as it was,

It was not sufficient to rouse the two tired wayfarers above them.

At the head of the column there rode a score or more of a grave iron-faced man,

Clad in somber home-spun garments and armed with rifles.

On reaching the base of the bluff they halted and held a short council among themselves.

"'The wells are to the right,

My brothers,

' said one,

A hard-lipped,

Clean-shaven man with grizzly hair.

"'To the right of the Sierra Blanco.

So we shall reach the Rio Grande,

' said another.

"'Fear not for water,

' cried a third.

He who could draw it from the rocks will not now abandon his own chosen people.

' "'Amen,

Amen,

' responded the whole party.

They were about to resume their journey when one of the youngest and keenest-eyed uttered an exclamation and pointed up at the rugged crag above them.

From its summit there flurried a little wisp of pink,

Showing up hard and bright against the grey rocks behind.

At the site there was a general ray-ing of horses and un-singling of guns,

While fresh horsemen came galloping up to reinforce the vanguard.

The word Redskins was on every lip.

"'There can't be any number of Indians here,

' said the elderly man who appeared to be in command.

We have passed the Pawnees,

And there are no other tribes until we cross the great mountains.

' "'Shall I go forward and see,

Brother Stengerson?

' asked one of the band.

"'And I,

And I,

' cried a dozen voices.

"'Leave your horses below and we will wait you here,

' the elder answered.

In a moment the young fellows had dismounted,

Fastened their horses,

And were ascending their precipitous slope,

Which led up to the object which had excited their curiosity.

They advanced rapidly and noiselessly,

With a confidence and dexterity of practiced scouts.

The watchers from the plain below could see them fit from rock to rock until their figure stood out against the skyline.

The young man who had first given the alarm was leading them.

Suddenly his followers saw him throw up his hands,

As though overcome with astonishment.

And on joining him they were affected in the same way by the sight which met their eyes.

On the little plateau which crowned the barren hill there stood a single giant boulder,

And against this boulder there lay a tall man,

Long-bearded and hard-featured,

But of an excessive thinness.

His placid face and regular breathing showed that he was fast asleep.

Beside him lay a little child,

With her round white arms encircling his round sinewy neck,

And her golden-haired head resting upon the breast of his velveteen tunic.

Her rosy lips were parted,

Showing the regular line of snow-white teeth within,

And the playful smile played over her infantile features.

Her plump little white legs terminating in white socks,

And neat shoes with shining buckles,

Offered a strange contrast to the long-shrivelled members of her companion.

On the ledge of rock above this strange couple there stood three solemn buzzards,

Who at the sight of the newcomers uttered racuous screams of disappointment and flapped sullenly away.

The cries of the foul birds awoke the two sleepers,

Who stared about them in bewilderment.

The man staggered to his feet and looked down upon the plain,

Which had been so desolate,

When sleep had overtaken him,

And which was now traversed by this enormous body of man and of beasts.

His face assumed an expression of incredulity as he gazed,

And he passed his bony hand over his eyes.

This is what they call delirium,

I guess,

He muttered.

The child stood beside him,

Holding onto the skirt of his coat,

And said nothing but look all round her with a wondering questioning gaze of childhood.

The rescuing party was speedily able to convince the two castaways that their appearance was no delusion.

One of them seized the little girl and hoisted her up his shoulder,

While two others supported her gaunt companion and assisted him towards the wagons.

My name is John Ferrier,

The wanderer explained.

Me and that little one are that's left of twenty people.

The rest is all dead of thirst and hunger away down the south.

Is she your child?

Asked someone.

I guess she is now,

The other cried defiantly.

She's mine,

Cause I saved her.

No man will take her from me.

She's Lucy Ferrier from this day on.

Who are you,

Though?

He continued glancing with curiosity at this stalwart.

Stalworth rescuers.

There seems to be a powerful lot of you.

Night upon ten thousand,

Said one of the young men,

We are the persecuted children of God,

And chosen of the angel,

Merona.

I never heard tell of him,

Said the wanderer.

He appears to have chosen a fair crowd of you.

Do not jest at that which is sacred,

Said the other sternly.

We are of those who believe in these sacred writings,

Drawn in Egyptian letters on plates of beaten gold,

Which were handed unto the holy Joseph Smith at Palmyra.

We have come from Nauvoo,

In the state of Illinois,

Where we had founded our temple.

We have come to seek a refuge from the violent man and from the godless,

Even though it be the heart of the desert.

The name of Nauvoo evidently recalled recollection to John Ferrier.

I see,

He said.

You are Mormons.

We are the Mormons,

Answered his companion with one voice.

Where are you going?

We do not know.

The hand of God is leading us under the person of our prophet.

You must come before him.

He shall say what is to be done with you.

They had reached the base of the hill by the same time.

And was surrounded by crowds of the pilgrims,

Pale-faced,

Meek-looking women,

Strong-laughing children,

And anxious,

Earnest-eyed men.

Many were the cries of astonishment and of commiseration which rose from them,

When they perceived the youth of one of the strangers and the destitution of the other.

Their escort did not halt,

However,

But pushed them to the hill.

Six horses were yoked to it,

Whereas the others were furnished with two,

Or at most,

Four apiece.

Beside the driver there sat a man who could not have been more than thirty years of age.

He was a man of great power,

And he was a man of great wisdom.

He was a man of great wisdom.

He was a man of great wisdom.

He was a man of great wisdom.

Beside the driver there sat a man who could not have been more than thirty years of age,

But whose massive head and resolute expression marked him as a leader.

He was reading a brown-backed volume,

But as the crowd approached he laid aside,

And listened attentively to an account of the episode.

Then he turned to the two castaways.

"'If we take you with us,

' he said in solemn words,

"'it can only be as believers in our own creed.

We shall have no wolves in our fold.

Better far that your bones should bleach in this wilderness than that you should prove to be that little speck of decay which in time corrupts the whole fruit.

Will you come with us on these terms?

' "'Guess I'll come with you on any terms,

' said Ferrier.

With such emphasis that the grave elders could not restrain a smile.

The leader alone retained his stern,

Impressive expression.

"'Take him,

Brother Stangerson,

' he said.

"'Give him food and drink,

And the child likewise.

Let it be your task also to teach him our holy creed.

We have delayed long enough.

Forward,

On on to Zion.

' "'On on to Zion,

' cried the crowd of Mormons.

And the words rippled down the long caravan,

Passing from mouth to mouth,

Until they died away in a dull murmur in the far distance.

With a crackling of whips and a creaking of wheels the great wagons got into motion,

And soon the whole caravan was winding along once more.

The elder to whose care the two waifs had been committed led them to his wagon,

Where Emil was already awaiting them.

"'You shall remain here,

' he said.

"'In a few days you will have recovered from your fatigues.

In the meantime,

Remember that now and forever you are of our religion.

' Brigham Young has said it,

And he has spoken with the voice of Joseph Smith,

Which is the voice of God.

" This is the end of part three of A Study in Scarlet by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

Reviews

Excellent! Your deep voice tone put me to sleep soundly & I woke just before the alarm went off. I had this story set for repeat. This morning I will listen again, so I can enjoy hearing you telling the story, and remember all that is said so eloquently! Thank you kindly Amadeus for sharing your talents! 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Perfect! Love listening to you reading Sherlock stories! Thank you!🤗🙏🥰