The Sign of the Four Chapter 10

Books at bedtime. The sign of the 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 medieval pottery, on strativarius violins, on the Buddhism of Cilan, 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. A felony Jones proved to be a sociable soul in his hours of relaxation, and faced his dinner with the air or 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' gayity. 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 hid it critically. Is there anything to mark this 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 ten the engines, and two burly police inspectors forward.

Where two 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 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 bought by so small a thing.

Yes? Well, I gave my mind a thorough rest by plunging into a chemical analysis. One of the great statesmen had 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, the shaltos, and thought that the whole matter was out again. My boys had been up the river and down the river without result. The launch was not at any landing stage or wolf, nor had it returned. So it could hardly have been scuttle to hide their traces, though that always remained a possible hypothesis if all else failed. I knew this man small had a certain degree of low-cunning, but I did not think incapable 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 sometime, as we had evidence that he maintained a continual watch on pondicry 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 a little weak said I. It is more probable that he had arranged his affairs before ever he set upon this expedition. No, I hardly think so. This layer of his would be too valuable a retreat in case of need for him to give up until he was sure that he could do without it.

But a second consideration struck me. Jonathan Small have felt that the peculiar appearance of his companion, however much he may have topcoded him, would give rise to gossip, and possibly be associated with the 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 that view of the paper took, and whether there was any suspicion, they would make their way under cover of darkness to some ship at Graves' End or in the Downs, where no doubt they had 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 send back the launch or to keep it at the wall 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 a shed or yard and be so affectionately concealed when at the same time I could have her in a few hours notice. Yes, that seems simple enough. It is just these very few simple things, which were extremely liable to be overlooked. However, I determined to act on the idea. I started at once in the harmless Seaman's rig and inquired at all the yards down the river. I drew a blanket 15, but at the 16th J. Kipsons, 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. Their ain't no remiss with her rudder, said the foreman, there she lies, with the red streaks. At that moment, who should come down but Mordek I. Smith, the missing owner? He was rather the worse for Lecker. I should not, of course, have known him, but he bellowed out his name and the name of his launch. I want her to be right at eight o'clock city, eight o'clock sharp-mind, fri of two gentlemen who won't be kept waiting. They had evidently paid him well, but he was very flush of money, chuckling shillings about to the men. I followed him for some distance, but he subsided into an ale house, so I went back to the yard, and happening to pick up one of the boys on the way. I stationed him as the centri over the launch. He is to stand at water's edge and wave his hand ke'chiek 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 in 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 a body of police in Jake's Plinyard and arrest them when they come down. Which would never have been. This man's small is a pretty shrewd fellow. He would send a scout ahead, and if anything made him suspicious, he would lie snug for another week. But you might have struck to Mordekai Smith and so been led to the 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 is liquor and good pay, why should he ask questions? They send in messages what to do. No, I thought over every possible course, and this is the best.

While the conversation had been proceeding, we'd been shooting the long series of bridges which span the Thames. As we passed the city, the last rays of the sun were gliding across the summit of St Paul's. It was twilight before we reached the tower. This is Jake's Plinyard, said Thames, pointing to a bristle of masks and rigging on the sary side. Crews gently up and down here under cover of the string of lighters. He took a pair of night glasses from his pocket and gazed sometime at the shore. I see my century at his post he marked, but no sign of a hang-achief.

Suppose we go downstream a short way, and line-white for them said chones eagerly. We were all eager by this time, even the policemen and stokers who had a very vague idea of what was going on. We have no right, take anything for granted Holmes answered. It is certainly 10 to 1 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 folks warm over yonder in the gaslight. They are coming from work in the yard. Dirty lifting rascals, but I suppose every one of them has some little immortal spark concealed about them. You would not think of it to look at them. There is no prior probability about it. A strange enigma is man. Someone calls him a soul concealed in an animal I suggested.

Wingwood reese is good upon the subjects at 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 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 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 exclaiming times and going like the devil, full speed ahead engineer, make after that launch with the yellow light. By heaven, I shall never forgive myself as she proves to have the heels on us. She had slipped unseen through the yard entrance and passed behind 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 into the shore, going at its tremendous rate. Jones looked gravely at her and shook his head. She is very fast, he said, "I doubt if we shall ever capture." We must capture cried Holmes beneath his teeth. He put on stokers, make a deal all she can. If we burn the boat, we must have them. We were fairly after her now. The furnace is wrought and the powerful engines whizzed and clanked like a great metallic heart. Her sharp, steep prow cut through the river water and sent two rolling waves to the right and to the left of us.

With every frob of the engines, we sprang and quivered like a living thing. One great yellow lantern in our bows through 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 us spoke of the pace which she was going. We flashed past bargees, steamers, merchant vessels in and out, behind this one and around the other. Voices hailed out as the darkness, but still the aurora funded on and still we followed close upon her track. Pilate on men, pilot on cried Holmes, looking down into the engine room, while a fierce glow from below beat upon his eager, aqualine 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 upon her within a very few minutes. A that moment, however, as our evil fate would have it, a tug with three barges in a row blended 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 200 yards. She was still, however, well in view and the murky uncertain twilight was setting into the clear starlit night. Up boilers were strained to their utmost and the frail shell vibrated and creeped with a fierce energy which was driving us along. We had shot through the pool, passed the west india docks down the long-depth ford reach, and upon again after rounding the aisle of docks, the dull blur in front of us resolved itself now clearly enough into the daintier aurora. Jones turned our search light upon her so that we could plainly see the figures upon her deck.

One man sat by the stern, with something black been of tweth his knees over which he stooped. Beneath him lay a dark mass which looked like a new foundland dog. The boy held the tiller while against the red glare of the furnace I could see Old Smith stripped to the waist and shoveling 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 be no longer any question about it. At Greenwich we were about 300 paces behind them. At Blackbump we could not have been more than 250. I have caused 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 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 they 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 boats lengths behind them, both boats flying at tremendous pace. It was a clear reach of the river, with barking level upon one side and the melancholy plumb stood marches upon the other. At our hail the man at the stern sprang up from the deck and shook his two clench-fisted us, cursing the wild in a high cracked voice. He was a good-sized, powerful man and he stood poising himself with legs astride. I could see that from their thigh downwards, there was but a wooden stamp upon the right side. At the sound of his strident, angry cries, there was a movement in the huddle bundled upon the deck. It straightened itself into a little black man, the smallest I have ever seen. With a great mishapen head and a shock of tangled this sheveled 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 of blanket, which left only his face exposed, but that face was enough to give a man a sleepless night. Never have I seen creatures so deeply marked with all bestiality and cruelty. His small eyes glowed and burned with a somber light, and his thick lips were writhed back from his teeth, which grinned and chatted at us with half animal fury. Fire, if he raises his hands, hit 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 might ran with his legs far apart, shrieking out curses and unhaloed dwarf with its hideous base and his strong yellow teeth gnashing 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 he 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 sudden 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 near at the bank. It was a wild and desolate place where the moon glimmered upon the wide expanse of marshland, with pools of stagnant water and beds of decaying vegetation. The launch, with a dull fad run 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 sang into the whole length into the sodden soil. In vain he struggled and riled, not one step could he possibly take either forwards or backwards. 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 drag him, like some evil fish, over our side. The two Smiths, father and sons sat silently in their launch, but came aboard me clean 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-amended treasure of the shoulders. There was no key, but it was of considerable weight, so he transferred it carefully to our own little cabin. As we steamed slowly up the stream again, we flashed our search light in every direction, but there was no sign of the islander. Somewhere in the dark ooze at the bottom of the Thames lay the bones of the strange visitor to our shores. So here, said Holmes, pointing to the wooden hatchway. We are hardly quick enough with our hidden stalls. There, sure enough, just behind where he had been standing struck one of the murderous darts which we knew so well. It must have waged between us, the instant we fired. Holmes smiled at it and shrugged his shoulders in 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.