It was difficult to refuse any of Sherlock Holmes requests, for they
were always so exceedingly definite, and put forward with such a quiet
air of mastery. I felt, however, that when Whitney was once confined in
the cab my mission was practically accomplished; and for the rest, I
could not wish anything better than to be associated with my friend in
one of those singular adventures which were the normal condition of his
existence. In a few minutes I had written my note, paid Whitney s bill,
led him out to the cab, and seen him driven through the darkness. In a
very short time a decrepit figure had emerged from the opium den, and I
was walking down the street with Sherlock Holmes. For two streets he
shuffled along with a bent back and an uncertain foot. Then, glancing
quickly round, he straightened himself out and burst into a hearty fit
of laughter.
I suppose, Watson, said he, that you imagine that I have added
opium-smoking to cocaine injections, and all the other little
weaknesses on which you have favoured me with your medical views.
I was certainly surprised to find you there.
But not more so than I to find you.
I came to find a friend.
And I to find an enemy.
An enemy?
Yes; one of my natural enemies, or, shall I say, my natural prey.
Briefly, Watson, I am in the midst of a very remarkable inquiry, and I
have hoped to find a clue in the incoherent ramblings of these sots, as
I have done before now. Had I been recognised in that den my life would
not have been worth an hour s purchase; for I have used it before now
for my own purposes, and the rascally Lascar who runs it has sworn to
have vengeance upon me. There is a trap-door at the back of that
building, near the corner of Paul s Wharf, which could tell some
strange tales of what has passed through it upon the moonless nights.
What! You do not mean bodies?
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