y answer was to rise from the table.

"You are right, Holmes. We are bound to go."

He sprang up and shook me by the hand.

"I knew you would not shrink at the last," said he, and for a moment I
saw something in his eyes which was nearer to tenderness than I had
ever seen. The next instant he was his masterful, practical self once
more.

"It is nearly half a mile, but there is no hurry. Let us walk," said
he. "Don't drop the instruments, I beg. Your arrest as a suspicious
character would be a most unfortunate complication."

Caulfield Gardens was one of those lines of flat-faced pillared, and
porticoed houses which are so prominent a product of the middle
Victorian epoch in the West End of London. Next door there appeared to
be a children's party, for the merry buzz of young voices and the
clatter of a piano resounded through the night. The fog still hung
about and screened us with its friendly shade. Holmes had lit his
lantern and flashed it upon the massive door.

"This is a serious proposition," said he. "It is certainly bolted as
well as locked. We would do better in the area. There is an excellent
archway down yonder in case a too zealous policeman should intrude.
Give me a hand, Watson, and I'll do the same for you."

A minute later we were both in the area. Hardly had we reached the
dark shadows before the step of the policeman was heard in the fog
above. As its soft rhythm died away, Holmes set to work upon the lower
door. I saw him stoop and strain until with a sharp crash it flew
open. We sprang through into the dark passage, closing the area door
behind us. Holmes let the way up the curving, uncarpeted stair. His
little fan of yellow light shone upon a low window.

"Here we are, Watson--this must be the one." He threw it open, and as
he did so there was a low, harsh murmur, growing steadily into a loud
roar as a train dashed past us in the darkness. Holmes swept his light
along the window-sill. It was thickly coated with soot from the
passing engines, but the black surface was blurred and rubbed in places.

"You can see where they rested the body. Halloa, Watson! what is this?
There can be no doubt that it is a blood mark." He was pointing to
faint discolourations along the woodwork of the window. "Here it is on
the stone of the stair also. The demonstration is complete. Let us
stay here until a train stops."

We had not long to wait. The very next train roared from the tun