The Perils of Sherlock Holmes Read Online Free PDF Page A

haven’t I received a ransom demand? I’m convinced he’s approached no one else.”
    “For the answer to that, we must wait for morning,” said Holmes. “Will your purse enable you to maintain your watch upon him one more night?”
    “Just that. I fail to see—”
    “Failure to see is the driving force behind exploration. If the fellow attempts to fly tonight, he will have King Tut on his person, and presently you will have him upon yours. Tomorrow, or the next day at the very latest, the Pharaoh will be comfortably ensconced in Westminster. Should it be the next day, Dr. Watson and I shall stand the watch through tomorrow night. By then, one month will have passed since the deed was done, a wizard measure of time. My faith in the efficiency of our government institutions encourages me to expect success.”
    My friend’s cheerful certainty had an effect upon the chronic cynicism of our host, whose ferociousness of feature had abated to some degree. “I shall be in your debt, quite literally. It goes without saying that history will as well.”
    “History can look to its own account. Yours, Sir Richard, will be discharged if we can prevail upon you to put us up tonight at least. Should Patterson take flight, it’s best we learn of the fact simultaneously with you. Action must be taken in concert and at once.”
    Burton accepted Holmes’s terms without hesitation. His majordomo, a Mameluke whose British livery did not subtract from his ferocious countenance, was sent round to our quarters with a note to Mrs. Hudson to pack two overnight cases. By the time he returned, we had dined with Sir Richard and his lady, on curried lamb such as I hadn’t tasted since my Indian service, paradoxically prepared by their stoic Scottish cook, and been shown to our room.
    It contained two camp beds and various items of arcania which had spilled into it from the master’s overladen study. A stuffed mongoose perched on a shelf above my bed, feeding upon a lifelike cobra. That night I dreamt of Calcutta.
    Our game had not flown by morning, when Holmes with some difficulty persuaded Burton to stay home rather than accompany us upon our mission.
    “Your illustrious scars, and Patterson’s familiarity, would put the odds overmuch in his favour. Compose your soul in patience this one time. I assure you the game will prove worthy of the candle.”
    We donned our simplest garb and alighted from the hansom several squares ahead of our destination. It was a neighbourhood of day-laborers, common loafers, and strangers to prosperity, for whom any unfamiliar visitor who did not arrive by shank’s mare or the Underground was suspect.
    Holmes, armed with Patterson’s description, enquired at the post office on his street, and satisfied himself that our quarry had not been in yet that day. Thereupon we took up our vigil outside the entrance.
    There, a group of unfortunates in motley attire crouched glumly on the steps and pavement, hoping to earn a shilling helping the odd customer carry his or her parcels. Upon Holmes’s advice, I ignored the black looks we received from our supposed rivals, whilst fingering the revolver in my coat pocket. There were evil faces in that crew, some of whom (I had no doubt) were described in detail in police bulletins posted inside the building.
    The day wore on. People of every description, although few thriving in appearance, came and went; fewer still succumbing to our companions’ ministrations to relieve them of their burdens upon exiting. Lady Isabel had provided us with cold mutton sandwiches, which we unwrapped at mid-day, and earned some grudging approval from the others when we shared them with those who had not brought along provisions.
    Throughout our surveillance, we did not converse beyond the necessary. Curious as I was to learn what we were about, experience had taught me the folly of trying to draw Holmes out on the details of his plans.
    Towards late afternoon, a catch in Holmes’s breath