THE COMPLETE SHERLOCK HOLMES

                               THE SIGN OF FOUR


                                  Chapter 10

                           THE END OF THE ISLANDER

OUR meal was a merry one.  Holmes could talk exceedingly well when he chose,
and that night he did choose.  He appeared to be in a state of nervous
exaltation.  I have never known him so brilliant.  He spoke on a quick
succession of subjects--on miracle plays, on mediaeval pottery, on
Stradivarius violins, on the Buddhism of Ceylon, and on the warships of the
future--handling each as though he had made a special study of it.  His bright
humour marked the reaction from his black depression of the preceding days.
Athelney Jones proved to be a sociable soul in his hours of relaxation and
faced his dinner with the air of a bon vivant.  For myself, I felt elated at
the thought that we were nearing the end of our task, and I caught something
of Holmes's gaiety.  None of us alluded during dinner to the cause which had
brought us together.
     When the cloth was cleared Holmes glanced at his watch and filled up
three glasses with port.
     "One bumper," said he, "to the success of our little expedition.  And now
it is high time we were off.  Have you a pistol, Watson?"
     "I have my old service-revolver in my desk."
     "You had best take it, then.  It is well to be prepared.  I see that the
cab is at the door.  I ordered it for half-past six."
     It was a little past seven before we reached the Westminster wharf and
found 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 cast
off.  Jones, Holmes, and I sat in the stern.  There was one man at the rudder,
one to tend the engines, and two burly police-inspectors forward.
     "Where to?" asked Jones.
     "To the Tower.  Tell them to stop opposite to Jacobson's Yard."
     Our craft was evidently a very fast one.  We shot past the long lines of
loaded barges as though they were stationary.  Holmes smiled with satisfaction
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 a
clipper.  I will tell you how the land lies, Watson.  You recollect how
annoyed I was at being baulked by so small a thing?"
     "Yes."
     "Well, I gave my mind a thorough rest by plunging into a chemical
analysis.  One of our greatest statesmen has said that a change of work is the
best rest.  So it is.  When I had succeeded in dissolving the hydrocarbon
which I was at work at, I came back to our problem of the Sholtos, and thought
the whole matter out again.  My boys had been up the river and down the river
without result.  The launch was not at any landing-stage or wharf, nor had it
returned.  Yet it could hardly have been scuttled to hide their traces, though
that always remained as a possible hypothesis if all else failed.  I knew that
this man Small had a certain degree of low cunning, but I did not think him
capable of anything in the nature of delicate finesse.  That is usually a
product of higher education.  I then reflected that since he had certainly
been in London some time--as we had evidence that he maintained a continual
watch over Pondicherry Lodge--he could hardly leave at a moment's notice, but
would need some little time, if it were only a day, to arrange 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 probable that
he had arranged his affairs before ever he set out upon his expedition."
     "No, I hardly think so.  This lair of his would be too valuable a retreat
in case of need for him to give it up until he was sure that he could do
without it.  But a second consideration struck me.  Jonathan Small must have
felt that the peculiar appearance of his companion, however much he may have
top-coated him, would give rise to gossip, and possibly be associated with
this Norwood tragedy.  He was quite sharp enough to see that.  They had
started from their headquarters under cover of darkness, and he would wish to
get back before it was broad light.  Now, it was past three o'clock, according
to Mrs. Smith, when they got the boat.  It would be quite bright, and people
would be about in an hour or so.  Therefore, I argued, they did not go very
far.  They paid Smith well to hold his tongue, reserved his launch for the
final escape, and hurried to their lodgings with the treasure-box.  In a
couple of nights, when they had time to see what view the papers took, and
whether there was any suspicion, they would make their way under cover of
darkness to some ship at Gravesend or in the Downs, where no doubt they had
already arranged for passages to America or the Colonies."
     "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 spite
of its invisibility.  I then put myself in the place of Small and looked at it
as a man of his capacity would.  He would probably consider that to send back
the launch or to keep it at a wharf would make 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 could only think of one way of doing it.  I might hand the
launch over to some boat-builder or repairer, with directions to make a
trifling change in her.  She would then be removed to his shed or yard, and so
be effectually concealed, while at the same time I could have her at a few
hours' notice."
     "That seems simple enough."
     "It is just these very simple things which are extremely liable to be
overlooked.  However, I determined to act on the idea.  I started at once in
this harmless seaman's rig and inquired at all the yards down the river.  I
drew blank at fifteen, but at the sixteenth--Jacobson's--I learned that the
Aurora had been handed over to them two days ago by a wooden-legged man, with
some trivial directions as to her rudder.  'There ain't naught amiss with her
rudder,' said the foreman.  'There she lies, with the red streaks.'  At that
moment who should come down but Mordecai Smith, the missing owner.  He was
rather the worse for liquor.  I should not, of course, have known him, but he
bellowed out his name and the name of his launch.  'I want 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 had evidently paid him well, for he was very
flush of money, chucking shillings about to the men.  I followed him some
distance, but he subsided into an alehouse; so I went back to the yard, and,
happening to pick up one of my boys on the way, I stationed him as a sentry
over the launch.  He is to stand at the water's edge and wave his handkerchief
to us when they start.  We shall be lying off in the stream, and it will 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 or
not," said Jones; "but if the affair were in my hands I should have had a body
of police in Jacobson's Yard and arrested them when they came down."
     "Which would have been never.  This man Small is a pretty shrewd fellow.
He would send a scout on ahead, and if anything made him suspicious he would
lie snug for another week."
     "But you might have stuck to Mordecai Smith, and so been led to their
hiding-place," said I.
     "In that case I should have wasted my day.  I think that it is a hundred
to one against Smith knowing where they live.  As long as he has liquor and
good pay, why should he ask questions?  They send him messages what to do.
No, I thought over every possible course, and this is the best."
     While this conversation had been proceeding, we had been shooting the
long series of bridges which span the Thames.  As we passed the City the 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 masts
and rigging on the Surrey side.  "Cruise gently up and down here under cover
of this string of lighters."  He took a pair of night-glasses from his pocket
and gazed some time at the shore.  "I see my sentry at his post," he remarked,
"but no sign of a handkerchief."
     "Suppose we go downstream a short way and lie in wait for them," said
Jones eagerly.
     We were all eager by this time, even the policemen and stokers, who had a
very vague idea of what was going forward.
     "We have no right to take anything for granted," Holmes answered.  "It is
certainly ten to one that they go downstream, but we cannot be certain.  From
this point we can see the entrance of the yard, and they can hardly see us.
It will be a clear night and plenty of light.  We must stay where we are.  See
how the folk swarm over yonder in the gaslight."
     "They are coming from work in the yard."
     "Dirty-looking rascals, but I suppose every one has some little immortal
spark concealed about him.  You would not think it, to look at them.  There is
no a priori probability about it.  A strange enigma is man!"
     "Someone calls him a soul concealed in an animal," I suggested.
     "Winwood Reade is good upon the subject," said Holmes.  "He remarks that,
while the individual man is an insoluble puzzle, in the aggregate he becomes a
mathematical certainty.  You can, for example, never foretell what any one man
will do, but you can say with precision what an average number will be up to.
Individuals vary, but percentages remain constant.  So says the statistician.
But do I see a handkerchief?  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 yellow light.  By
heaven, I shall never forgive myself if she proves to have the heels of us!"
     She had slipped unseen through the yard-entrance and passed between two
or three small craft, so that she had fairly got her speed up before we saw
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 his head.
     "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 have them!"
     We were fairly after her now.  The furnaces roared, and the powerful
engines whizzed and clanked like a great metallic heart.  Her sharp, steep
prow cut through the still river-water and sent two rolling waves to right and
to left of us.  With every throb of the engines we sprang and quivered like a
living thing.  One great yellow lantern in our bows threw a long, flickering
funnel of light in front of us.  Right ahead a dark blur upon the water showed
where the Aurora lay, and the swirl of white foam behind her spoke of the pace
at which she was going.  We flashed past barges, steamers, merchant-vessels,
in and out, behind this one and round the other.  Voices hailed us out of the
darkness, but still the Aurora thundered on, and still we followed close upon
her track.
     "Pile it on, men, pile it on!" cried Holmes, looking down into the
engine-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 few
minutes."
     At that moment, however, as our evil fate would have it, a tug with three
barges in tow blundered in between us.  It was only by putting our helm hard
down that we avoided a collision, and before we could round them and recover
our way the Aurora had gained a good two hundred yards.  She was still,
however, well in view, and the murky, uncertain twilight was settling into a
clear, starlit night.  Our boilers were strained to their utmost, and the
frail shell vibrated and creaked with the fierce energy which was driving us
along.  We had shot through the pool, past the West India Docks, down the long
Deptford Reach, and up again after rounding the Isle of Dogs.  The dull blur
in front of us resolved itself now clearly into the dainty Aurora.  Jones
turned our searchlight upon her, so that we could plainly see the figures upon
her deck.  One man sat by the stern, with something black between his knees,
over which he stooped.  Beside him lay a dark mass, which looked like a
Newfoundland dog.  The boy held the tiller, while against the red glare of the
furnace I could see old Smith, stripped to the waist, and shovelling coals for
dear life.  They may have had some doubt at first as to whether we were really
pursuing them, but now as we followed every winding and turning which they
took there could no longer be any question about it.  At Greenwich we were
about three hundred paces behind them.  At Blackwall we could not have been
more than two hundred and fifty.  I have coursed many creatures in many
countries during my checkered career, but never did sport give me such a wild
thrill as this mad, flying man-hunt down the Thames.  Steadily we drew in upon
them, yard by yard.  In the silence of the night we could hear the panting and
clanking of their machinery.  The man in the stern still crouched upon the
deck, and his arms were moving as though he were busy, while every now and
then he would look up and measure with a glance the distance which still
separated us.  Nearer we came and nearer.  Jones yelled to them to stop.  We
were not more than four boat's-lengths behind them, both boats flying at a
tremendous pace.  It was a clear reach of the river, with Barking Level upon
one side and the melancholy Plumstead Marshes upon the other.  At our hail the
man in the stern sprang up from the deck and shook his two clenched fists at
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 could see that from
the thigh downward there was but a wooden stump upon the right side.  At the
sound of his strident, angry cries, there was movement in the huddled bundle
upon the deck.  It straightened itself into a little black man--the smallest I
have ever seen--with a great, misshapen head and a shock of tangled,
dishevelled hair.  Holmes had already drawn his revolver, and I whipped out
mine at the sight of this savage, distorted creature.  He was wrapped in some
sort of dark ulster or blanket, which left only his face exposed, but that
face was enough to give a man a sleepless night.  Never have I seen features
so deeply marked with all bestiality and cruelty.  His small eyes glowed and
burned with a sombre light, and his thick lips were writhed back from his
teeth, which grinned and chattered at us with half animal fury.
     "Fire if he raises his hand," said Holmes quietly.
     We were within a boat's-length by this time, and almost within touch of
our quarry.  I can see the two of them now as they stood, the white man with
his legs far apart, shrieking out curses, and the unhallowed dwarf with his
hideous face, and his strong yellow teeth gnashing at us in the light of our
lantern.
     It was well that we had so clear a view of him.  Even as we looked he
plucked out from under his covering a short, round piece of wood, like a
school-ruler, and clapped it to his lips.  Our pistols rang out together.  He
whirled round, threw up his arms, and, with a kind of choking cough, fell
sideways into the stream.  I caught one glimpse of his venomous, menacing eyes
amid the white swirl of the waters.  At the same moment the wooden-legged man
threw himself upon the rudder and put it 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 were round 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 wide expanse of marsh-land, with pools of stagnant water and
beds of decaying vegetation.  The launch, with a dull thud, ran up upon the
mud-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 length into the
sodden soil.  In vain he struggled and writhed.  Not one step could he
possibly take either forward or backward.  He yelled in impotent rage and
kicked frantically into the mud with his other foot, but his struggles only
bored his wooden pin the deeper into the sticky bank.  When we brought our
launch alongside he was so firmly anchored that it was only by throwing the
end of a rope over his shoulders that we 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 their launch but came aboard meekly enough when commanded.  The
Aurora herself we hauled off and made fast to our stern.  A solid iron chest
of Indian workmanship stood upon the deck.  This, there could be no question,
was the same that had contained the ill-omened treasure of the Sholtos.  There
was no key, but it was of considerable weight, so we transferred it carefully
to our own little cabin.  As we steamed slowly upstream again, we flashed our
searchlight in every direction, but there was no sign of the Islander.
Somewhere in the dark ooze at the bottom of the Thames lie the bones of that
strange visitor to our shores.
     "See here," said Holmes, pointing to the wooden hatchway.  "We were
hardly quick enough with our pistols."  There, sure enough, just behind where
we had been standing, stuck one of those murderous darts which we knew so
well.  It must have whizzed between us at the instant we fired.  Holmes smiled
at it and shrugged his shoulders in his easy fashion, but I confess that it
turned me sick to think of the horrible death which had passed so close to us
that night.