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"No, your secret lies in London. It is there that I shall seek

it."

"Then I shall call upon you in a day, or in two days, with news

as to the box and the papers. I shall take your advice in every

particular." He shook hands with us and took his leave. Outside

the wind still screamed and the rain splashed and pattered

against the windows. This strange, wild story seemed to have come

to us from amid the mad elements-blown in upon us like a sheet of

sea-weed in a gale-and now to have been reabsorbed by them once

more.

Sherlock Holmes sat for some time in silence, with his head sunk

forward and his eyes bent upon the red glow of the fire. Then he

lit his pipe, and leaning back in his chair he watched the blue

smoke-rings as they chased each other up to the ceiling.

"I think, Watson," he remarked at last, "that of all our cases we

have had none more fantastic than this."

"Save, perhaps, the Sign of Four."