The Adventure of the Red Circle, Page 2

that the person who came back was theperson who went out. Then, again, the man who took the rooms spokeEnglish well. This other, however, prints 'match' when it should havebeen 'matches.' I can imagine that the word was taken out of adictionary, which would give the noun but not the plural. The laconicstyle may be to conceal the absence of knowledge of English. Yes,Watson, there are good reasons to suspect that there has been asubstitution of lodgers."

  "But for what possible end?"

  "Ah! there lies our problem. There is one rather obvious line ofinvestigation." He took down the great book in which, day by day, hefiled the agony columns of the various London journals. "Dear me!" saidhe, turning over the pages, "what a chorus of groans, cries, andbleatings! What a rag-bag of singular happenings! But surely the mostvaluable hunting-ground that ever was given to a student of theunusual! This person is alone and cannot be approached by letterwithout a breach of that absolute secrecy which is desired. How is anynews or any message to reach him from without? Obviously byadvertisement through a newspaper. There seems no other way, andfortunately we need concern ourselves with the one paper only. Hereare the Daily Gazette extracts of the last fortnight. 'Lady with ablack boa at Prince's Skating Club'--that we may pass. 'Surely Jimmywill not break his mother's heart'--that appears to be irrelevant. 'Ifthe lady who fainted on Brixton bus'--she does not interest me. 'Everyday my heart longs--' Bleat, Watson--unmitigated bleat! Ah, this is alittle more possible. Listen to this: 'Be patient. Will find somesure means of communications. Meanwhile, this column. G.' That istwo days after Mrs. Warren's lodger arrived. It sounds plausible, doesit not? The mysterious one could understand English, even if he couldnot print it. Let us see if we can pick up the trace again. Yes, herewe are--three days later. 'Am making successful arrangements.Patience and prudence. The clouds will pass. G.' Nothing for a weekafter that. Then comes something much more definite: 'The path isclearing. If I find chance signal message remember code agreed--One A,two B, and so on. You will hear soon. G.' That was in yesterday'spaper, and there is nothing in to-day's. It's all very appropriate toMrs. Warren's lodger. If we wait a little, Watson, I don't doubt thatthe affair will grow more intelligible."

  So it proved; for in the morning I found my friend standing on thehearthrug with his back to the fire and a smile of completesatisfaction upon his face.

  "How's this, Watson?" he cried, picking up the paper from the table."'High red house with white stone facings. Third floor. Second windowleft. After dusk. G.' That is definite enough. I think afterbreakfast we must make a little reconnaissance of Mrs. Warren'sneighbourhood. Ah, Mrs. Warren! what news do you bring us thismorning?"

  Our client had suddenly burst into the room with an explosive energywhich told of some new and momentous development.

  "It's a police matter, Mr. Holmes!" she cried. "I'll have no more ofit! He shall pack out of there with his baggage. I would have gonestraight up and told him so, only I thought it was but fair to you totake your opinion first. But I'm at the end of my patience, and whenit comes to knocking my old man about--"

  "Knocking Mr. Warren about?"

  "Using him roughly, anyway."

  "But who used him roughly?"

  "Ah! that's what we want to know! It was this morning, sir. Mr.Warren is a timekeeper at Morton and Waylight's, in Tottenham CourtRoad. He has to be out of the house before seven. Well, this morninghe had not gone ten paces down the road when two men came up behindhim, threw a coat over his head, and bundled him into a cab that wasbeside the curb. They drove him an hour, and then opened the door andshot him out. He lay in the roadway so shaken in his wits that henever saw what became of the cab. When he picked himself up he found hewas on Hampstead Heath; so he took a bus home, and there he lies now onhis sofa, while I came straight round to tell you what had happened."

  "Most interesting," said Holmes. "Did he observe the appearance ofthese men--did he hear them talk?"

  "No; he is clean dazed. He just knows that he was lifted up as if bymagic and dropped as if by magic. Two at least were in it, and maybethree."

  "And you connect this attack with your lodger?"

  "Well, we've lived there fifteen years and no such happenings ever camebefore. I've had enough of him. Money's not everything. I'll have himout of my house before the day is done."

  "Wait a bit, Mrs. Warren. Do nothing rash. I begin to think that thisaffair may be very much more important than appeared at first sight.It is clear now that some danger is threatening your lodger. It isequally clear that his enemies, lying in wait for him near your door,mistook your husband for him in the foggy morning light. Ondiscovering their mistake they released him. What they would have donehad it not been a mistake, we can only conjecture."

  "Well, what am I to do, Mr. Holmes?"

  "I have a great fancy to see this lodger of yours, Mrs. Warren."

  "I don't see how that is to be managed, unless you break in the door.I always hear him unlock it as I go down the stair after I leave thetray."

  "He has to take the tray in. Surely we could conceal ourselves and seehim do it."

  The landlady thought for a moment.

  "Well, sir, there's the box-room opposite. I could arrange alooking-glass, maybe, and if you were behind the door--"

  "Excellent!" said Holmes. "When does he lunch?"

  "About one, sir."

  "Then Dr. Watson and I will come round in time. For the present, Mrs.Warren, good-bye."

  At half-past twelve we found ourselves upon the steps of Mrs. Warren'shouse--a high, thin, yellow-brick edifice in Great Orme Street, anarrow thoroughfare at the northeast side of the British Museum.Standing as it does near the corner of the street, it commands a viewdown Howe Street, with its more pretentious houses. Holmes pointed witha chuckle to one of these, a row of residential flats, which projectedso that they could not fail to catch the eye.

  "See, Watson!" said he. "'High red house with stone facings.' There isthe signal station all right. We know the place, and we know the code;so surely our task should be simple. There's a 'to let' card in thatwindow. It is evidently an empty flat to which the confederate hasaccess. Well, Mrs. Warren, what now?"

  "I have it all ready for you. If you will both come up and leave yourboots below on the landing, I'll put you there now."

  It was an excellent hiding-place which she had arranged. The mirrorwas so placed that, seated in the dark, we could very plainly see thedoor opposite. We had hardly settled down in it, and Mrs. Warren leftus, when a distant tinkle announced that our mysterious neighbour hadrung. Presently the landlady appeared with the tray, laid it down upona chair beside the closed door, and then, treading heavily, departed.Crouching together in the angle of the door, we kept our eyes fixedupon the mirror. Suddenly, as the landlady's footsteps died away, therewas the creak of a turning key, the handle revolved, and two thin handsdarted out and lifted the tray from the chair. An instant later it washurriedly replaced, and I caught a glimpse of a dark, beautiful,horrified face glaring at the narrow opening of the box-room. Then thedoor crashed to, the key turned once more, and all was silence. Holmestwitched my sleeve, and together we stole down the stair.

  "I will call again in the evening," said he to the expectant landlady."I think, Watson, we can discuss this business better in our ownquarters."

  "My surmise, as you saw, proved to be correct," said he, speaking fromthe depths of his easy-chair. "There has been a substitution oflodgers. What I did not foresee is that we should find a woman, and noordinary woman, Watson."

  "She saw us."

  "Well, she saw something to alarm her. That is certain. The generalsequence of events is pretty clear, is it not? A couple seek refuge inLondon from a very terrible and instant danger. The measure of thatdanger is the rigour of their precautions. The man, who has some workwhich he must do, desires to leave the woman in absolute safety whilehe does it. It is not an easy problem, but he solved it in an originalfashion, and so effectively t
hat her presence was not even known to thelandlady who supplies her with food. The printed messages, as is nowevident, were to prevent her sex being discovered by her writing. Theman cannot come near the woman, or he will guide their enemies to her.Since he cannot communicate with her direct, he has recourse to theagony column of a paper. So far all is clear."

  "But what is at the root of it?"

  "Ah, yes, Watson--severely practical, as usual! What is at the root ofit all? Mrs. Warren's whimsical problem enlarges somewhat and