ITwasinthespringoftheyear1894thatallLondonwasinterested，andthefashionableworlddismayed，bythemurderoftheHonourableRonaldAdairundermostunusualandinexplicablecircumstances。Thepublichasalreadylearnedthoseparticularsofthecrimewhichcameoutinthepoliceinvestigation；butagooddealwassuppresseduponthatoccasion，sincethecasefortheprosecutionwassooverwhelminglystrongthatitwasnotnecessarytobringforwardallthefacts。Onlynow，attheendofnearlytenyears，amIallowedtosupplythosemissinglinkswhichmakeupthewholeofthatremarkablechain。Thecrimewasofinterestinitself，butthatinterestwasasnothingtomecomparedtotheinconceivablesequel，whichaffordedmethegreatestshockandsurpriseofanyeventinmyadventurouslife。
Evennow，afterthislonginterval，IfindmyselfthrillingasIthinkofit，andfeelingoncemorethatsuddenfloodofjoy，amazement，andincredulitywhichutterlysubmergedmymind。
LetmesaytothatpublicwhichhasshownsomeinterestinthoseglimpseswhichIhaveoccasionallygiventhemofthethoughtsandactionsofaveryremarkablemanthattheyarenottoblamemeifIhavenotsharedmyknowledgewiththem，forIshouldhaveconsidereditmyfirstdutytohavedonesohadInotbeenbarredbyapositiveprohibitionfromhisownlips，whichwasonlywithdrawnuponthethirdoflastmonth。
ItcanbeimaginedthatmycloseintimacywithSherlockHolmeshadinterestedmedeeplyincrime，andthatafterhisdisappearanceIneverfailedtoreadwithcarethevariousproblemswhichcamebeforethepublic，andIevenattemptedmorethanonceformyownprivatesatisfactiontoemployhismethodsintheirsolution，thoughwithindifferentsuccess。Therewasnone，however，whichappealedtomelikethistragedyofRonaldAdair。AsIreadtheevidenceattheinquest，whichleduptoaverdictofwilfulmurderagainstsomepersonorpersonsunknown，IrealizedmoreclearlythanIhadeverdonethelosswhichthecommunityhadsustainedbythedeathofSherlockHolmes。Therewerepointsaboutthisstrangebusinesswhichwould，Iwassure，havespeciallyappealedtohim，andtheeffortsofthepolicewouldhavebeensupplemented，ormoreprobablyanticipated，bythetrainedobservationandthealertmindofthefirstcriminalagentinEurope。AlldayasIdroveuponmyroundIturnedoverthecaseinmymind，andfoundnoexplanationwhichappearedtometobeadequate。Attheriskoftellingatwice—toldtaleIwillrecapitulatethefactsastheywereknowntothepublicattheconclusionoftheinquest。
TheHonourableRonaldAdairwasthesecondsonoftheEarlofMaynooth，atthattimeGovernorofoneoftheAustralianColonies。Adair’smotherhadreturnedfromAustraliatoundergotheoperationforcataract，andshe，hersonRonald，andherdaughterHildawerelivingtogetherat427，ParkLane。
Theyouthmovedinthebestsociety，had，sofaraswasknown，noenemies，andnoparticularvices。HehadbeenengagedtoMissEdithWoodley，ofCarstairs，buttheengagementhadbeenbrokenoffbymutualconsentsomemonthsbefore，andtherewasnosignthatithadleftanyveryprofoundfeelingbehindit。Fortheresttheman’slifemovedinanarrowandconventionalcircle，forhishabitswerequietandhisnatureunemotional。Yetitwasuponthiseasy—goingyoungaristocratthatdeathcameinmoststrangeandunexpectedformbetweenthehoursoftenandeleven—twentyonthenightofMarch30，1894。
RonaldAdairwasfondofcards，playingcontinually，butneverforsuchstakesaswouldhurthim。HewasamemberoftheBaldwin，theCavendish，andtheBagatellecardclubs。Itwasshownthatafterdinneronthedayofhisdeathhehadplayedarubberofwhistatthelatterclub。Hehadalsoplayedthereintheafternoon。Theevidenceofthosewhohadplayedwithhim——Mr。Murray，SirJohnHardy，andColonelMoran——showedthatthegamewaswhist，andthattherewasafairlyequalfallofthecards。Adairmighthavelostfivepounds，butnotmore。
Hisfortunewasaconsiderableone，andsuchalosscouldnotinanywayaffecthim。Hehadplayednearlyeverydayatonecluborother，buthewasacautiousplayer，andusuallyroseawinner。
ItcameoutinevidencethatinpartnershipwithColonelMoranhehadactuallywonasmuchasfourhundredandtwentypoundsinasittingsomeweeksbeforefromGodfreyMilnerandLordBalmoral。
Somuchforhisrecenthistory，asitcameoutattheinquest。
Ontheeveningofthecrimehereturnedfromtheclubexactlyatten。Hismotherandsisterwereoutspendingtheeveningwitharelation。Theservantdeposedthatsheheardhimenterthefrontroomonthesecondfloor，generallyusedashissitting—room。
Shehadlitafirethere，andasitsmokedshehadopenedthewindow。
Nosoundwasheardfromtheroomuntileleven—twenty，thehourofthereturnofLadyMaynoothandherdaughter。Desiringtosaygood—night，shehadattemptedtoenterherson’sroom。Thedoorwaslockedontheinside，andnoanswercouldbegottotheircriesandknocking。Helpwasobtainedandthedoorforced。
Theunfortunateyoungmanwasfoundlyingnearthetable。
Hisheadhadbeenhorriblymutilatedbyanexpandingrevolverbullet，butnoweaponofanysortwastobefoundintheroom。
Onthetablelaytwobank—notesfortenpoundseachandseventeenpoundsteninsilverandgold，themoneyarrangedinlittlepilesofvaryingamount。Thereweresomefiguresalsouponasheetofpaperwiththenamesofsomeclubfriendsoppositetothem，fromwhichitwasconjecturedthatbeforehisdeathhewasendeavouringtomakeouthislossesorwinningsatcards。
Aminuteexaminationofthecircumstancesservedonlytomakethecasemorecomplex。Inthefirstplace，noreasoncouldbegivenwhytheyoungmanshouldhavefastenedthedoorupontheinside。Therewasthepossibilitythatthemurdererhaddonethisandhadafterwardsescapedbythewindow。Thedropwasatleasttwentyfeet，however，andabedofcrocusesinfullbloomlaybeneath。Neithertheflowersnortheearthshowedanysignofhavingbeendisturbed，norwerethereanymarksuponthenarrowstripofgrasswhichseparatedthehousefromtheroad。
Apparently，therefore，itwastheyoungmanhimselfwhohadfastenedthedoor。Buthowdidhecomebyhisdeath？
Noonecouldhaveclimbeduptothewindowwithoutleavingtraces。
Supposeamanhadfiredthroughthewindow，itwouldindeedbearemarkableshotwhocouldwitharevolverinflictsodeadlyawound。Again，ParkLaneisafrequentedthoroughfare，andthereisacab—standwithinahundredyardsofthehouse。Noonehadheardashot。Andyettherewasthedeadman，andtheretherevolverbullet，whichhadmushroomedout，assoft—nosedbulletswill，andsoinflictedawoundwhichmusthavecausedinstantaneousdeath。SuchwerethecircumstancesoftheParkLaneMystery，whichwerefurthercomplicatedbyentireabsenceofmotive，since，asIhavesaid，youngAdairwasnotknowntohaveanyenemy，andnoattempthadbeenmadetoremovethemoneyorvaluablesintheroom。
AlldayIturnedthesefactsoverinmymind，endeavouringtohituponsometheorywhichcouldreconcilethemall，andtofindthatlineofleastresistancewhichmypoorfriendhaddeclaredtobethestarting—pointofeveryinvestigation。IconfessthatImadelittleprogress。IntheeveningIstrolledacrossthePark，andfoundmyselfaboutsixo’clockattheOxfordStreetendofParkLane。Agroupofloafersuponthepavements，allstaringupataparticularwindow，directedmetothehousewhichIhadcometosee。Atall，thinmanwithcolouredglasses，whomIstronglysuspectedofbeingaplain—clothesdetective，waspointingoutsometheoryofhisown，whiletheotherscrowdedroundtolistentowhathesaid。IgotasnearhimasIcould，buthisobservationsseemedtometobeabsurd，soIwithdrewagaininsomedisgust。AsIdidsoIstruckagainstanelderlydeformedman，whohadbeenbehindme，andI
knockeddownseveralbookswhichhewascarrying。IrememberthatasIpickedthemupIobservedthetitleofoneofthem，"TheOriginofTreeWorship，"anditstruckmethatthefellowmustbesomepoorbibliophilewho，eitherasatradeorasahobby，wasacollectorofobscurevolumes。Iendeavouredtoapologizefortheaccident，butitwasevidentthatthesebookswhichIhadsounfortunatelymaltreatedwereverypreciousobjectsintheeyesoftheirowner。Withasnarlofcontemptheturneduponhisheel，andIsawhiscurvedbackandwhiteside—whiskersdisappearamongthethrong。
MyobservationsofNo。427，ParkLanedidlittletoclearuptheprobleminwhichIwasinterested。Thehousewasseparatedfromthestreetbyalowwallandrailing，thewholenotmorethanfivefeethigh。Itwasperfectlyeasy，therefore，foranyonetogetintothegarden，butthewindowwasentirelyinaccessible，sincetherewasnowater—pipeoranythingwhichcouldhelpthemostactivemantoclimbit。MorepuzzledthaneverIretracedmystepstoKensington。Ihadnotbeeninmystudyfiveminuteswhenthemaidenteredtosaythatapersondesiredtoseeme。
Tomyastonishmentitwasnoneotherthanmystrangeoldbook—collector，hissharp，wizenedfacepeeringoutfromaframeofwhitehair，andhispreciousvolumes，adozenofthematleast，wedgedunderhisrightarm。
"You’resurprisedtoseeme，sir，"saidhe，inastrange，croakingvoice。
IacknowledgedthatIwas。
"Well，I’veaconscience，sir，andwhenIchancedtoseeyougointothishouse，asIcamehobblingafteryou，Ithoughttomyself，I’lljuststepinandseethatkindgentleman，andtellhimthatifIwasabitgruffinmymannertherewasnotanyharmmeant，andthatIammuchobligedtohimforpickingupmybooks。"
"Youmaketoomuchofatrifle，"saidI。"MayIaskhowyouknewwhoIwas？"
"Well，sir，ifitisn’ttoogreataliberty，Iamaneighbourofyours，foryou’llfindmylittlebookshopatthecornerofChurchStreet，andveryhappytoseeyou，Iamsure。Maybeyoucollectyourself，sir；here’s`BritishBirds，’and`Catullus，’
and`TheHolyWar’——abargaineveryoneofthem。Withfivevolumesyoucouldjustfillthatgaponthatsecondshelf。
Itlooksuntidy，doesitnot，sir？"
Imovedmyheadtolookatthecabinetbehindme。WhenIturnedagainSherlockHolmeswasstandingsmilingatmeacrossmystudytable。Irosetomyfeet，staredathimforsomesecondsinutteramazement，andthenitappearsthatImusthavefaintedforthefirstandthelasttimeinmylife。Certainlyagreymistswirledbeforemyeyes，andwhenitclearedIfoundmycollar—endsundoneandthetinglingafter—tasteofbrandyuponmylips。Holmeswasbendingovermychair，hisflaskinhishand。
"MydearWatson，"saidthewell—rememberedvoice，"Ioweyouathousandapologies。Ihadnoideathatyouwouldbesoaffected。"
Igrippedhimbythearm。
"Holmes！"Icried。"Isitreallyyou？Canitindeedbethatyouarealive？Isitpossiblethatyousucceededinclimbingoutofthatawfulabyss？"
"Waitamoment，"saidhe。"Areyousurethatyouarereallyfittodiscussthings？Ihavegivenyouaseriousshockbymyunnecessarilydramaticreappearance。"
"Iamallright，butindeed，Holmes，Icanhardlybelievemyeyes。Goodheavens，tothinkthatyou——youofallmen——
shouldbestandinginmystudy！"AgainIgrippedhimbythesleeveandfeltthethin，sinewyarmbeneathit。"Well，you’renotaspirit，anyhow，"saidI。"Mydearchap，Iamoverjoyedtoseeyou。Sitdownandtellmehowyoucamealiveoutofthatdreadfulchasm。"
Hesatoppositetomeandlitacigaretteinhisoldnonchalantmanner。Hewasdressedintheseedyfrock—coatofthebookmerchant，buttherestofthatindividuallayinapileofwhitehairandoldbooksuponthetable。Holmeslookedeventhinnerandkeenerthanofold，buttherewasadead—whitetingeinhisaquilinefacewhichtoldmethathisliferecentlyhadnotbeenahealthyone。
"Iamgladtostretchmyself，Watson，"saidhe。"Itisnojokewhenatallmanhastotakeafootoffhisstatureforseveralhoursonend。Now，mydearfellow，inthematteroftheseexplanationswehave，ifImayaskforyourco—operation，ahardanddangerousnight’sworkinfrontofus。PerhapsitwouldbebetterifIgaveyouanaccountofthewholesituationwhenthatworkisfinished。"
"Iamfullofcuriosity。Ishouldmuchprefertohearnow。"
"You’llcomewithmeto—night？"
"Whenyoulikeandwhereyoulike。"
"Thisisindeedliketheolddays。Weshallhavetimeforamouthfulofdinnerbeforeweneedgo。Well，then，aboutthatchasm。Ihadnoseriousdifficultyingettingoutofit，fortheverysimplereasonthatIneverwasinit。"
"Youneverwereinit？"
"No，Watson，Ineverwasinit。Mynotetoyouwasabsolutelygenuine。IhadlittledoubtthatIhadcometotheendofmycareerwhenIperceivedthesomewhatsinisterfigureofthelateProfessorMoriartystandinguponthenarrowpathwaywhichledtosafety。Ireadaninexorablepurposeinhisgreyeyes。
Iexchangedsomeremarkswithhim，therefore，andobtainedhiscourteouspermissiontowritetheshortnotewhichyouafterwardsreceived。Ileftitwithmycigarette—boxandmystickandIwalkedalongthepathway，Moriartystillatmyheels。WhenIreachedtheendIstoodatbay。Hedrewnoweapon，butherushedatmeandthrewhislongarmsaroundme。
Heknewthathisowngamewasup，andwasonlyanxioustorevengehimselfuponme。Wetotteredtogetheruponthebrinkofthefall。Ihavesomeknowledge，however，ofbaritsu，ortheJapanesesystemofwrestling，whichhasmorethanoncebeenveryusefultome。Islippedthroughhisgrip，andhewithahorriblescreamkickedmadlyforafewsecondsandclawedtheairwithbothhishands。Butforallhiseffortshecouldnotgethisbalance，andoverhewent。WithmyfaceoverthebrinkIsawhimfallforalongway。Thenhestruckarock，boundedoff，andsplashedintothewater。"
Ilistenedwithamazementtothisexplanation，whichHolmesdeliveredbetweenthepuffsofhiscigarette。
"Butthetracks！"Icried。"Isawwithmyowneyesthattwowentdownthepathandnonereturned。"
"Itcameaboutinthisway。TheinstantthattheProfessorhaddisappeareditstruckmewhatareallyextraordinarilyluckychanceFatehadplacedinmyway。IknewthatMoriartywasnottheonlymanwhohadswornmydeath。Therewereatleastthreeotherswhosedesireforvengeanceuponmewouldonlybeincreasedbythedeathoftheirleader。Theywereallmostdangerousmen。Oneorotherwouldcertainlygetme。Ontheotherhand，ifalltheworldwasconvincedthatIwasdeadtheywouldtakeliberties，thesemen，theywouldlaythemselvesopen，andsoonerorlaterIcoulddestroythem。ThenitwouldbetimeformetoannouncethatIwasstillinthelandoftheliving。
SorapidlydoesthebrainactthatIbelieveIhadthoughtthisalloutbeforeProfessorMoriartyhadreachedthebottomoftheReichenbachFall。
"Istoodupandexaminedtherockywallbehindme。Inyourpicturesqueaccountofthematter，whichIreadwithgreatinterestsomemonthslater，youassertthatthewallwassheer。
Thiswasnotliterallytrue。Afewsmallfootholdspresentedthemselves，andtherewassomeindicationofaledge。Thecliffissohighthattoclimbitallwasanobviousimpossibility，anditwasequallyimpossibletomakemywayalongthewetpathwithoutleavingsometracks。Imight，itistrue，havereversedmyboots，asIhavedoneonsimilaroccasions，butthesightofthreesetsoftracksinonedirectionwouldcertainlyhavesuggestedadeception。Onthewhole，then，itwasbestthatI
shouldrisktheclimb。Itwasnotapleasantbusiness，Watson。
Thefallroaredbeneathme。Iamnotafancifulperson，butIgiveyoumywordthatIseemedtohearMoriarty’svoicescreamingatmeoutoftheabyss。Amistakewouldhavebeenfatal。
Morethanonce，astuftsofgrasscameoutinmyhandormyfootslippedinthewetnotchesoftherock，IthoughtthatIwasgone。
ButIstruggledupwards，andatlastIreachedaledgeseveralfeetdeepandcoveredwithsoftgreenmoss，whereIcouldlieunseeninthemostperfectcomfort。ThereIwasstretchedwhenyou，mydearWatson，andallyourfollowingwereinvestigatinginthemostsympatheticandinefficientmannerthecircumstancesofmydeath。
"Atlast，whenyouhadallformedyourinevitableandtotallyerroneousconclusions，youdepartedforthehotelandIwasleftalone。IhadimaginedthatIhadreachedtheendofmyadventures，butaveryunexpectedoccurrenceshowedmethatthereweresurprisesstillinstoreforme。Ahugerock，fallingfromabove，boomedpastme，struckthepath，andboundedoverintothechasm。
ForaninstantIthoughtthatitwasanaccident；butamomentlater，lookingup，Isawaman’sheadagainstthedarkeningsky，andanotherstonestrucktheveryledgeuponwhichIwasstretched，withinafootofmyhead。Ofcourse，themeaningofthiswasobvious。
Moriartyhadnotbeenalone。Aconfederate——andeventhatoneglancehadtoldmehowdangerousamanthatconfederatewas——
hadkeptguardwhiletheProfessorhadattackedme。Fromadistance，unseenbyme，hehadbeenawitnessofhisfriend’sdeathandofmyescape。Hehadwaited，andthen，makinghiswayroundtothetopofthecliff，hehadendeavouredtosucceedwherehiscomradehadfailed。
"Ididnottakelongtothinkaboutit，Watson。AgainIsawthatgrimfacelookoverthecliff，andIknewthatitwastheprecursorofanotherstone。Iscrambleddownontothepath。
Idon’tthinkIcouldhavedoneitincoldblood。Itwasahundredtimesmoredifficultthangettingup。ButIhadnotimetothinkofthedanger，foranotherstonesangpastmeasIhungbymyhandsfromtheedgeoftheledge。HalfwaydownIslipped，butbytheblessingofGodIlanded，tornandbleeding，uponthepath。Itooktomyheels，didtenmilesoverthemountainsinthedarkness，andaweeklaterIfoundmyselfinFlorencewiththecertaintythatnooneintheworldknewwhathadbecomeofme。
"Ihadonlyoneconfidant——mybrotherMycroft。Ioweyoumanyapologies，mydearWatson，butitwasall—importantthatitshouldbethoughtIwasdead，anditisquitecertainthatyouwouldnothavewrittensoconvincinganaccountofmyunhappyendhadyounotyourselfthoughtthatitwastrue。SeveraltimesduringthelastthreeyearsIhavetakenupmypentowritetoyou，butalwaysIfearedlestyouraffectionateregardformeshouldtemptyoutosomeindiscretionwhichwouldbetraymysecret。ForthatreasonIturnedawayfromyouthiseveningwhenyouupsetmybooks，forIwasindangeratthetime，andanyshowofsurpriseandemotionuponyourpartmighthavedrawnattentiontomyidentityandledtothemostdeplorableandirreparableresults。AstoMycroft，IhadtoconfideinhiminordertoobtainthemoneywhichIneeded。ThecourseofeventsinLondondidnotrunsowellasIhadhoped，forthetrialoftheMoriartyganglefttwoofitsmostdangerousmembers，myownmostvindictiveenemies，atliberty。ItravelledfortwoyearsinTibet，therefore，andamusedmyselfbyvisitingLhassaandspendingsomedayswiththeheadLlama。YoumayhavereadoftheremarkableexplorationsofaNorwegiannamedSigerson，butIamsurethatitneveroccurredtoyouthatyouwerereceivingnewsofyourfriend。IthenpassedthroughPersia，lookedinatMecca，andpaidashortbutinterestingvisittotheKhalifaatKhartoum，theresultsofwhichIhavecommunicatedtotheForeignOffice。ReturningtoFranceIspentsomemonthsinaresearchintothecoal—tarderivatives，whichIconductedinalaboratoryatMontpelier，intheSouthofFrance。Havingconcludedthistomysatisfaction，andlearningthatonlyoneofmyenemieswasnowleftinLondon，IwasabouttoreturnwhenmymovementswerehastenedbythenewsofthisveryremarkableParkLaneMystery，whichnotonlyappealedtomebyitsownmerits，butwhichseemedtooffersomemostpeculiarpersonalopportunities。IcameoveratoncetoLondon，calledinmyownpersonatBakerStreet，threwMrs。Hudsonintoviolenthysterics，andfoundthatMycrofthadpreservedmyroomsandmypapersexactlyastheyhadalwaysbeen。Soitwas，mydearWatson，thatattwoo’clockto—dayIfoundmyselfinmyoldarm—chairinmyownoldroom，andonlywishingthatIcouldhaveseenmyoldfriendWatsonintheotherchairwhichhehassooftenadorned。"
SuchwastheremarkablenarrativetowhichIlistenedonthatAprilevening——anarrativewhichwouldhavebeenutterlyincredibletomehaditnotbeenconfirmedbytheactualsightofthetall，sparefigureandthekeen，eagerface，whichIhadneverthoughttoseeagain。Insomemannerhehadlearnedofmyownsadbereavement，andhissympathywasshowninhismannerratherthaninhiswords。"Workisthebestantidotetosorrow，mydearWatson，"saidhe，"andIhaveapieceofworkforusbothto—nightwhich，ifwecanbringittoasuccessfulconclusion，willinitselfjustifyaman’slifeonthisplanet。"
InvainIbeggedhimtotellmemore。"Youwillhearandseeenoughbeforemorning，"heanswered。"Wehavethreeyearsofthepasttodiscuss。Letthatsufficeuntilhalf—pastnine，whenwestartuponthenotableadventureoftheemptyhouse。"
Itwasindeedlikeoldtimeswhen，atthathour，Ifoundmyselfseatedbesidehiminahansom，myrevolverinmypocketandthethrillofadventureinmyheart。Holmeswascoldandsternandsilent。Asthegleamofthestreet—lampsflasheduponhisausterefeaturesIsawthathisbrowsweredrawndowninthoughtandhisthinlipscompressed。IknewnotwhatwildbeastwewereabouttohuntdowninthedarkjungleofcriminalLondon，butIwaswellassuredfromthebearingofthismasterhuntsmanthattheadventurewasamostgraveone，whilethesardonicsmilewhichoccasionallybrokethroughhisasceticgloombodedlittlegoodfortheobjectofourquest。
IhadimaginedthatwewereboundforBakerStreet，butHolmesstoppedthecabatthecornerofCavendishSquare。Iobservedthatashesteppedouthegaveamostsearchingglancetorightandleft，andateverysubsequentstreetcornerhetooktheutmostpainstoassurethathewasnotfollowed。Ourroutewascertainlyasingularone。Holmes’sknowledgeofthebywaysofLondonwasextraordinary，andonthisoccasionhepassedrapidly，andwithanassuredstep，throughanetworkofmewsandstablestheveryexistenceofwhichIhadneverknown。Weemergedatlastintoasmallroad，linedwithold，gloomyhouses，whichledusintoManchesterStreet，andsotoBlandfordStreet。Hereheturnedswiftlydownanarrowpassage，passedthroughawoodengateintoadesertedyard，andthenopenedwithakeythebackdoorofahouse。Weenteredtogetherandhecloseditbehindus。
Theplacewaspitch—dark，butitwasevidenttomethatitwasanemptyhouse。Ourfeetcreakedandcrackledoverthebareplanking，andmyoutstretchedhandtouchedawallfromwhichthepaperwashanginginribbons。Holmes’scold，thinfingersclosedroundmywristandledmeforwardsdownalonghall，untilIdimlysawthemurkyfanlightoverthedoor。HereHolmesturnedsuddenlytotheright，andwefoundourselvesinalarge，square，emptyroom，heavilyshadowedinthecorners，butfaintlylitinthecentrefromthelightsofthestreetbeyond。Therewasnolampnearandthewindowwasthickwithdust，sothatwecouldonlyjustdiscerneachother’sfigureswithin。Mycompanionputhishanduponmyshoulderandhislipsclosetomyear。
"Doyouknowwhereweare？"hewhispered。
"SurelythatisBakerStreet，"Ianswered，staringthroughthedimwindow。
"Exactly。WeareinCamdenHouse，whichstandsoppositetoourownoldquarters。"
"Butwhyarewehere？"
"Becauseitcommandssoexcellentaviewofthatpicturesquepile。
MightItroubleyou，mydearWatson，todrawalittlenearertothewindow，takingeveryprecautionnottoshowyourself，andthentolookupatouroldrooms——thestarting—pointofsomanyofourlittleadventures？Wewillseeifmythreeyearsofabsencehaveentirelytakenawaymypowertosurpriseyou。"
Icreptforwardandlookedacrossatthefamiliarwindow。
AsmyeyesfelluponitIgaveagaspandacryofamazement。
Theblindwasdownandastronglightwasburningintheroom。
Theshadowofamanwhowasseatedinachairwithinwasthrowninhard，blackoutlineupontheluminousscreenofthewindow。
Therewasnomistakingthepoiseofthehead，thesquarenessoftheshoulders，thesharpnessofthefeatures。Thefacewasturnedhalf—round，andtheeffectwasthatofoneofthoseblacksilhouetteswhichourgrandparentslovedtoframe。ItwasaperfectreproductionofHolmes。SoamazedwasIthatIthrewoutmyhandtomakesurethatthemanhimselfwasstandingbesideme。Hewasquiveringwithsilentlaughter。
"Well？"saidhe。
"Goodheavens！"Icried。"Itismarvellous。"
"Itrustthatagedothnotwithernorcustomstalemyinfinitevariety，’"saidhe，andIrecognisedinhisvoicethejoyandpridewhichtheartisttakesinhisowncreation。"Itreallyisratherlikeme，isitnot？"
"Ishouldbepreparedtoswearthatitwasyou。"
"ThecreditoftheexecutionisduetoMonsieurOscarMeunier，ofGrenoble，whospentsomedaysindoingthemoulding。Itisabustinwax。TherestIarrangedmyselfduringmyvisittoBakerStreetthisafternoon。"
"Butwhy？"
"Because，mydearWatson，IhadthestrongestpossiblereasonforwishingcertainpeopletothinkthatIwastherewhenIwasreallyelsewhere。"
"Andyouthoughttheroomswerewatched？"
"IKNEWthattheywerewatched。"
"Bywhom？"