The Greek Interpreter
Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes
by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
During my long and intimate acquaintance with Mr.
Sherlock Holmes I had never heard him refer to his relations, and hardly ever to
his own early life. This reticence upon his part had increased the somewhat
inhuman effect which he produced upon me, until sometimes I found myself
regarding him as an isolated phenomenon, a brain without a heart, as deficient
in human sympathy as he was preeminent in intelligence. His aversion to women
and his disinclination to form new friendships were both typical of his
unemotional character, but not more so than his complete suppression of every
reference to his own people. I had come to believe that he was an orphan with no
relatives living; but one day. to my very great surprise, he began to talk to me
about his brother.
It was after tea on a summer evening, and the
conversation, which had roamed in a desultory, spasmodic fashion from golf clubs
to the causes of the change in the obliquity of the ecliptic, came round at last
to the question of atavism and hereditary aptitudes. The point under discussion
was, how far any singular gift in an individual was due to his ancestry and how
far to his own early training.
"In your own case," said I, "from
all that you have told me, it seems obvious that your faculty of observation and
your peculiar facility for deduction are due to your own systematic training."
"To some extent," he answered
thoughtfully. "My ancestors were country squires, who appear to have led
much the same life as is natural to their class. But, none the less, my turn
that way is in my veins, and may have come with my grandmother, who was the
sister of Vernet, the French artist. Art in the blood is liable to take the
"But how do you know that it is
"Because my brother Mycroft possesses it
in a larger degree than I do."
This was news to me indeed. If there were
another man with such singular powers in England, how was it that neither police
nor public had heard of him? I put the question, with a hint that it was my
companion's modesty which made him acknowledge his brother as his superior.
Holmes laughed at my suggestion.
"My dear Watson," said he, "I
cannot agree with those who rank modesty among the virtues. To the logician all
things should be seen exactly as they are, and to underestimate one's self is as
much a departure from truth as to exaggerate one's own powers. When I say,
therefore, that Mycroft has better powers of observation than I, you may take it
that I am speaking the exact and literal truth."
"Is he your junior?"
"Seven years my senior."
"How comes it that he is unknown?''
"Oh, he is very well known in his own
"Well, in the Diogenes Club, for example."
I had never heard of the institution, and my
face must have proclaimed as much, for Sherlock Homes pulled out his watch.
"The Diogenes Club is the queerest club
in London, and Mycroft one of the queerest men. He's always there from quarter
to five to twenty to eight. It's six now, so if you care for a stroll this
beautiful evening I shall be very happy to introduce you to two curiosities."
Five minutes later we were in the street,
walking towards Regent's Circus.
"You wonder," said my companion,
"why it is that Mycroft does not use his powers for detective work. He is
incapable of it."
"But I thought you said --"
"I said that he was my superior in
observation and deduction. If the art of the detective began and ended in
reasoning from an armchair, my brother would be the greatest criminal agent that
ever lived. But he has no ambition and no energy. He will not even go out of his
way to verify his own solutions, and would rather be considered wrong than take
the trouble to prove himself right. Again and again I have taken a problem to
him, and have received an explanation which has afterwards proved to be the
correct one. And yet he was absolutely incapable of working out the practical
points which must be gone into before a case could be laid before a judge or
"It is not his profession, then?"
"By no means. What is to me a means of
livelihood is to him the merest hobby of a dilettante. He has an extraordinary
faculty for figures, and audits the books in some of the government departments.
Mycroft lodges in Pall Mall, and he walks round the corner into Whitehall every
morning and back every evening. From year's end to year's end he takes no other
exercise, and is seen nowhere else, except only in the Diogenes Club, which is
just opposite his rooms."
"I cannot recall the name."
"Very likely not. There are many men in
London, you know, who, some from shyness, some from misanthropy, have no wish
for the company of their fellows. Yet they are not averse to comfortable chairs
and the latest periodicals. It is for the convenience of these that the Diogenes
Club was started, and it now contains the most unsociable and unclubable men in
town. No member is permitted to take the least notice of any other one. Save in
the Stranger's Room, no talking is, under any circumstances, allowed. and three
offences, if brought to the notice of the committee, render the talker liable to
expulsion. My brother was one of the founders, and I have myself found it a very
We had reached Pall Mall as we talked, and
were walking down it from the St. James's end. Sherlock Holmes stopped at a door
some little distance from the Carlton, and, cautioning me not to speak, he led
the way into the hall. Through the glass panelling I caught a glimpse of a large
and luxurious room, in which a considerable number of men were sitting about and
reading papers, each in his own little nook. Holmes showed me into a small
chamber which looked out into Pall Mall, and then, leaving me for a minute, he
came back with a companion whom I knew could only be his brother.
Mycroft Holmes was a much larger and stouter
man than Sherlock. His body was absolutely corpulent, but his face, though
massive, had preserved something of the sharpness of expression which was so
remarkable in that of his brother. His eyes, which were of a peculiarly light,
watery gray, seemed to always retain that far-away, introspective look which I
had only observed in Sherlock's when he was exerting his full powers.
"I am glad to meet you, sir," said
he, putting out a broad, fat hand like the flipper of a seal. "I hear of
Sherlock everywhere since you became his chronicler. By the way, Sherlock, I
expected to see you round last week to consult me over that Manor House case. I
thought you might be a little out of your depth."
"No, I solved it," said my friend,
"It was Adams, of course."
"Yes, it was Adams."
"I was sure of it from the first."
The two sat down together in the bow-window of the club. "To anyone who
wishes to study mankind this is the spot," said Mycroft. "Look at the
magnificent types! Look at these two men who are coming towards us, for example."
"The billiard-marker and the other?"
"Precisely. What do you make of the other?"
The two men had stopped opposite the window.
Some chalk marks over the waistcoat pocket were the only signs of billiards
which I could see in one of them. The other was a very small, dark fellow, with
his hat pushed back and several packages under his arm.
"An old soldier, I perceive," said
"And very recently discharged,"
remarked the brother.
"Served in India, I see."
"And a non-commissioned officer."
"Royal Artillery, I fancy,'' said
"And a widower."
"But with a child."
"Children, my dear boy, children."
"Come," said I. laughing, "this
is a little too much."
"Surely." answered Holmes, "it
is not hard to say that a man with that bearing. expression of authority, and
sun-baked skin. is a soldier, is more than a private, and is not long from
"That he has not left the service long is
shown by his still wearing his ammunition boots, as they are called,"
"He had not the cavalry stride, yet he
wore his hat on one side, as is shown by the lighter skin on that side of his
brow. His weight is against his being a sapper. He is in the artillery."
"Then, of course, his complete mourning
shows that he has lost someone very dear. The fact that he is doing his own
shopping looks as though it were his wife. He has been buying things for
children, you perceive. There is a rattle, which shows that one of them is very
young. The wife probably died in childbed. The fact that he has a picture-book
under his arm shows that there is another child to be thought of."
I began to understand what my friend meant
when he said that his brother possessed even keener faculties than he did
himself. He glanced across at me and smiled. Mycroft took snuff from a
tortoise-shell box and brushed away the wandering grains from his coat front
with a large, red silk handkerchief.
"By the way, Sherlock," said he,
"I have had something quite after your own heart -- a most singular problem
-- submltted to my judgment. I really had not the energy to follow it up save in
a very incomplete fashion, but it gave me a basis for some pleasing speculations.
If you would care to hear the facts --"
"My dear Mycroft, I should be delighted."
The brother scribbled a note upon a leaf of
his pocket-book, and, ringing the bell, he handed it to the waiter.
"I have asked Mr. Melas to step across,"
said he. "He lodges on the floor above me, and I have some slight
acquaintance with him, which led him to come to me in his perplexity. Mr. Melas
is a Greek by extraction, as I understand, and he is a remarkable linguist. He
earns his living partly as interpreter in the law courts and partly by acting as
guide to any wealthy Orientals who may visit the Northumberland Avenue hotels. I
think I will leave him to tell his very remarkable experience in his own fashion."
A few minutes later we were joined by a short,
stout man whose olive face and coal black hair proclaimed his Southern origin,
though his speech was that of an educated Englishman. He shook hands eagerly
with Sherlock Holmes, and his dark eyes sparkled with pleasure when he
understood that the specialist was anxious to hear his story.
"I do not believe that the police credit
me -- on my word, I do not," said he in a wailing voice. "Just because
they have never heard of it before, they think that such a thing cannot be. But
I know that I shall never be easy in my mind until I know what has become of my
poor man with the sticking-plaster upon his face."
"I am all attention," said Sherlock
"This is Wednesday evening," said Mr.
Melas. "Well, then, it was Monday night -- only two days ago, you
understand -- that all this happened. I am an interpreter, as perhaps my
neighbour there has told you. I interpret all languages -- or nearly all -- but
as I am a Greek by birth and with a Grecian name, it is with that particular
tongue that I am principally associated. For many years I have been the chief
Greek interpreter in London, and my name is very well known in the hotels.
"It happens not unfrequently that I am
sent for at strange hours by foreigners who get into difficulties, or by
travellers who arrive late and wish my services. I was not surprised, therefore,
on Monday night when a Mr. Latimer, a very fashionably dressed young man, came
up to my rooms and asked me to accompany him in a cab which was waiting at the
door. A Greek friend had come to see him upon business, he said, and as he could
speak nothing but his own tongue, the services of an interpreter were
indispensable. He gave me to understand that his house was some little distance
off, in Kensington, and he seemed to be in a great hurry, bustling me rapidly
into the cab when we had descended to the street.
"I say into the cab, but I soon became
doubtful as to whether tt was not a carriage in which I found myself. It was
certainly more roomy than the ordinary four-wheeled disgrace to London, and the
fittings, though frayed, were of rich quality. Mr. Latimer seated himself
opposite to me and we started off through Charing Cross and up the Shaftesbury
Avenue. We had come out upon Oxford Street and I had ventured some remark as to
this being a roundabout way to Kensington, when my words were arrested by the
extraordinary conduct of my companion.
"He began by drawing a most
formidable-looking bludgeon loaded with lead from his pocket, and switching it
backward and forward several times, as if to test its weight and strength. Then
he placed it without a word upon the seat beside him. Having done this, he drew
up the windows on each side, and I found to my astonishment that they were
covered with paper so as to prevent my seeing through them.
" 'I am sorry to cut off your view, Mr.
Melas,' said he. 'The fact is that I have no intention that you should see what
the place is to which we are driving. It might possibly be inconvenient to me if
you could find your way there again.'
"As you can imagine, I was utterly taken
aback by such an address. My companion was a powerful, broad-shouldered young
fellow, and, apart from the weapon, I should not have had the slightest chance
in a struggle with him.
" 'This is very extraordinary conduct, Mr.
Latimer,' I stammered. 'You must be aware that what you are doing is quite
" 'It is somewhat of a liberty, no doubt,'
said he, 'but we'll make it up to you. I must warn you, however, Mr. Melas, that
if at any time to-night you attempt to raise an alarm or do anything which is
against my interest, you will find it a very serious thing. I beg you to
remember that no one knows where you are, and that, whether you are in this
carriage or in my house, you are equally in my power.'
"His words were quiet, but he had a
rasping way of saying them, which was very menacing. I sat in silence wondering
what on earth could be his reason for kidnapping me in this extraordinary
fashion. Whatever it might be, it was perfectly clear that there was no possible
use in my resisting, and that I could only wait to see what might befall.
"For nearly two hours we drove without my
having the least clue as to where we were going. Sometimes the rattle of the
stones told of a paved causeway, and at others our smooth, silent course
suggested asphalt; but, save by this variation in sound, there was nothing at
all which could in the remotest way help me to form a guess as to where we were.
The paper over each window was impenetrable to light, and a blue curtain was
drawn across the glasswork in front. It was a quarter-past seven when we left
Pall Mall, and my watch showed me that it was ten minutes to nine when we at
last came to a standstill. My companion let down the window, and I caught a
glimpse of a low, arched doorway with a lamp burning above it. As I was hurried
from the carriage it swung open, and I found myself inside the house, with a
vague impression of a lawn and trees on each side of me as I entered. Whether
these were private grounds, however, or bona-fide country was more than I could
possibly venture to say.
"There was a coloured gas-lamp inside
which was turned so low that I could see little save that the hall was of some
size and hung with pictures. In the dim light I could make out that the person
who had opened the door was a small, mean-looking, middle-aged man with rounded
shoulders. As he turned towards us the glint of the light showed me that he was
" 'Is this Mr. Melas, Harold?' said he.
" 'Well done, well done! No ill-will, Mr.
Melas, I hope, but we could not get on without you. If you deal fair with us
you'll not regret it, but if you try any tricks, God help you!' He spoke in a
nervous, jerky fashion, and with little giggling laughs in between, but somehow
he impressed me with fear more than the other.
" 'What do you want with me?' I asked.
" 'Only to ask a few questions of a Greek
gentleman who is visiting us, and to let us have the answers. But say no more
than you are told to say, or --' here came the nervous giggle again -'you had
better never have been born.'
"As he spoke he opened a door and showed
the way into a room which appeared to be very richly furnished, but again the
only light was afforded by a single lamp half-turned down. The chamber was
certainly large, and the way in which my feet sank into the carpet as I stepped
across it told me of its richness. I caught glimpses of velvet chairs, a high
white marble mantelpiece, and what seemed to be a suit of Japanese armour at one
side of it. There was a chair just under the lamp, and the elderly man motioned
that I should sit in it. The younger had left us, but he suddenly returned
through another door, leading with him a gentleman clad in some sort of loose
dressing-gown who moved slowly towards us. As he came into the circle of dim
light which enabled me to see him more clearly I was thrilled with horror at his
appearance. He was deadly pale and terribly emaciated, with the protruding,
brilliant eyes of a man whose spirit was greater than his strength. But what
shocked me more than any signs of physical weakness was that his face was
grotesquely criss-crossed with sticking-plaster, and that one large pad of it
was fastened over his mouth.
" 'Have you the slate, Harold?' cried the
older man, as this strange being fell rather than sat down into a chair. 'Are
his hands loose? Now, then, give him the pencil. You are to ask the questions,
Mr. Melas, and he will write the answers. Ask him first of all whether he is
prepared to sign the papers?"
"The man's eyes flashed fire.
" 'Never!' he wrote in Greek upon the
" 'On no conditions?' I asked at the
bidding of our tyrant.
" 'Only if I see her married in my
presence by a Greek priest whom I know.'
"The man giggled in his venomous way.
" 'You know what awaits you, then?'
" 'I care nothing for myself.'
"These are samples of the questions and
answers which made up our strange half-spoken, half-written conversation. Again
and again I had to ask him whether he would give in and sign the documents.
Again and again I had the same indignant reply. But soon a happy thought came to
me. I took to adding on little sentences of my own to each question, innocent
ones at first, to test whether either of our companions knew anything of the
matter, and then, as I found that they showed no sign I played a more dangerous
game. Our conversation ran something like this:
" 'You can do no good by this obstinacy.
Who are you?'
" 'I care not. I am a stranger in London.'
" 'Your fate will be on your own head.
How long have you been here?'
" 'Let it be so. Three weeks.'
" 'The property can never be yours. What
" 'It shall not go to villains. They are
" 'You shall go free if you sign. What
house is this?'
" 'I will never sign. I do not know.'
" 'You are not doing her any service.
What is your name?'
" 'Let me hear her say so. Kratides.'
" 'You shall see her if you sign. Where
are you from?'
" 'Then I shall never see her. Athens.'
"Another five minutes, Mr. Holmes, and I
should have wormed out the whole story under their very noses. My very next
question might have cleared the matter up, but at that instant the door opened
and a woman stepped into the room. I could not see her clearly enough to know
more than that she was tall and graceful, with black hair, and clad in some sort
of loose white gown.
" 'Harold,' said she, speaking English
with a broken accent. 'I could not stay away longer. It is so lonely up there
with only -- Oh, my God, it is Paul!'
"These last words were in Greek, and at
the same instant the man with a convulsive effort tore the plaster from his lips,
and screaming out 'Sophy! Sophy!' rushed into the woman's arms. Their embrace
was but for an instant, however, for the younger man seized the woman and pushed
her out of the room, while the elder easily overpowered his emaciated victim and
dragged him away through the other door. For a moment I was left alone in the
room, and I sprang to my feet with some vague idea that I might in some way get
a clue to what this house was in which I found myself. Fortunately, however, I
took no steps, for looking up I saw that the older man was standing in the
doorway, with his eyes fixed upon me.
" 'That will do, Mr. Melas,' said he. 'You
perceive that we have taken you into our confidence over some very private
business. We should not have troubled you, only that our friend who speaks Greek
and who began these negotiations has been forced to return to the East. It was
quite necessary for us to find someone to take his place, and we were fortunate
in hearing of your powers.'
" 'There are five sovereigns here,' said
he, walking up to me, 'which will, I hope, be a sufficient fee. But remember,'
he added, tapping me lightly on the chest and giggling, 'if you speak to a human
soul about this -- one human soul, mind -- well, may God have mercy upon your
"I cannot tell you the loathing and
horror with which this insignificant-looking man inspired me. I could see him
better now as the lamp-light shone upon him. His features were peaky and sallow,
and his little pointed beard was thready and illnourished. He pushed his face
forward as he spoke and his lips and eyelids were continually twitching like a
man with St. Vitus's dance. I could not help thinking that his strange, catchy
little laugh was also a symptom of some nervous malady. The terror of his face
lay in his eyes, however, steel gray, and glistening coldly with a malignant,
inexorable cruelty in their depths.
" 'We shall know if you speak of this,'
said he. 'We have our own means of information. Now you will find the carriage
waiting, and my friend will see you on your way.'
"I was hurried through the hall and into
the vehicle, again obtaining that momentary glimpse of trees and a garden. Mr.
Latimer followed closely at my heels and took his place opposite to me without a
word. In silence we again drove for an interminable distance with the windows
raised, until at last, just after midnight, the carriage pulled up.
" 'You will get down here, Mr. Melas,'
said my companion. 'I am sorry to leave you so far from your house, but there is
no alternative. Any attempt upon your part to follow the carriage can only end
in injury to yourself.'
"He opened the door as he spoke. and I
had hardly time to spring out when the coachman lashed the horse and the
carriage rattled away. I looked around me in astonishment. I was on some sort of
a heathy common mottled over with dark clumps of furze-bushes. Far away
stretched a line of houses, with a light here and there in the upper windows. On
the other side I saw the red signal-lamps of a railway.
"The carriage which had brought me was
already out of sight. I stood gazing round and wondering where on earth I might
be, when I saw someone coming towards me in the darkness. As he came up to me I
made out that he was a railway porter.
" 'Can you tell me what place this is?' I
" 'Wandsworth Common,' said he.
" 'Can I get a train into town?'
" 'If you walk on a mile or so to Clapham
Junction,' said he, 'you'll just be in time for the last to Victoria.'
"So that was the end of my adventure, Mr.
Holmes. I do not know where I was, nor whom I spoke with, nor anything save what
I have told you. But I know that there is foul play going on, and I want to help
that unhappy man if I can. I told the whole story to Mr. Mycroft Holmes next
morning, and subsequently to the police."
We all sat in silence for some little time
after listening to this extraordinary narrative. Then Sherlock looked across at
"Any steps?" he asked.
Mycroft picked up the Daily News, which was
lying on the side-table.
"Anybody supplying any information as to the
abouts of a Greek gentleman named Paul Kratides, from
Athens, who is unable to speak English, will be rewarded.
A similar reward paid to anyone giving information about a
Greek lady whose first name is Sophy. X 2473.
"That was in all the dailies. No answer."
"How about the Greek legation?"
"I have inquired. They know nothing."
"A wire to the head of the Athens police,
"Sherlock has all the energy of the
family," said Mycroft, turning to me. "Well, you take the case up by
all means and let me know if you do any good."
"Certainly," answered my friend,
rising from his chair. "I'll let you know, and Mr. Melas also. In the
meantime, Mr. Melas, I should certainly be on my guard if I were you, for of
course they must know through these advertisements that you have betrayed them."
As we walked home together, Holmes stopped at
a telegraph office and sent off several wires.
"You see, Watson," he remarked,
"our evening has been by no means wasted. Some of my most interesting cases
have come to me in this way through Mycroft. The problem which we have just
listened to, although it can admit of but one explanation, has still some
"You have hopes of solving it?"
"Well, knowing as much as we do, it will
be singular indeed if we fail to discover the rest. You must yourself have
formed some theory which will explain the facts to which we have listened."
"In a vague way, yes."
"What was your idea, then?"
"It seemed to me to be obvious that this
Greek girl had been carried off by the young Englishman named Harold Latimer."
"Carried off from where?"
Sherlock Holmes shook his head. "This
young man could not talk a word of Greek. The lady could talk English fairly
well. Inference -- that she had been in England some little time, but he had not
been in Greece."
"Well, then, we will presume that she had
once come on a visit to England, and that this Harold had persuaded her to fly
"That is more probable."
"Then the brother -- for that, I fancy,
must be the relationship -comes over from Greece to interfere. He imprudently
puts himself into the power of the young man and his older associate. They seize
him and use violence towards him in order to make him sign some papers to make
over the girl's fortune of which he may be trustee -- to them. This he refuses
to do. In order to negotiate with him they have to get an interpreter, and they
pitch upon this Mr. Melas, having used some other one before. The girl is not
told of the arrival of her brother and finds it out by the merest accident."
"Excellent, Watson!" cried Holmes.
"I really fancy that you are not far from the truth. You see that we hold
all the cards, and we have only to fear some sudden act of violence on their
part. If they give us time we must have them."
"But how can we find where this house
"Well, if our conjecture is correct and
the girl's name is or was Sophy Kratides, we should have no difficulty in
tracing her. That must be our main hope, for the brother is, of coursc, a
complete stranger. It is clear that some time has elapsed since this Harold
established these relations with the girl -- some weeks at any rate -- since the
brother in Greece has had time to hear of it and come across. If they have been
living in the same place during this time, it is probable that we shall have
some answer to Mycroft's advertisement."
We had reached our house in Baker Street while
we had been talking. Holmes ascended the stair first, and as he opened the door
of our room he gave a start of surprise. Looking over his shoulder, I was
equally astonished. His brother Mycroft was sitting smoking in the armchair.
"Come in, Sherlock! Come in, sir,"
said he blandly, smiling at our surprised faces. "You don't expect such
energy from me do you, Sherlock? But somehow this case attracts me."
"How did you get here?"
"I passed you in a hansom."
"There has been some new development?"
"I had an answer to my advertisement."
"Yes, it came within a few minutes of
"And to what effect?"
Mycroft Holmes took out a sheet of paper.
"Here it is," said he, "written
with a J pen on royal cream paper by a middle-aged man with a weak constitution.
"Sir [he saysl:
"In answer to your advertisement of to-day's date, I beg
to inform you that I know the young lady in question very
well. If you should care to call upon me I could give you
some particulars as to her painful history. She is living at
present at The Myrtles, Beckenham.
"He writes from Lower Brixton," said
Mycroft Holmes. "Do you not think that we might drive to him now, Sherlock,
and learn these particulars?"
"My dear Mycroft, the brother's life is
more valuable than the sister's story. I think we should call at Scotland Yard
for Inspector Gregson and go straight out to Beckenham. We know that a man is
being done to death, and every hour may be vital."
"Better pick up Mr. Melas on our way,"
I suggested. "We may need an interpreter."
"Excellent," said Sherlock Holmes.
"Send the boy for a four-wheeler, and we shall be off at once." He
opened the table-drawer as he spoke, and I noticed that he slipped his revolver
into his pocket. "Yes," said he in answer to my glance, "I should
say, from what we have heard, that we are dealing with a particularly dangerous
It was almost dark before we found ourselves
in Pall Mall, at the rooms of Mr. Melas. A gentleman had just called for him,
and he was gone.
"Can you tell me where?" asked
"I don't know, sir," answered the
woman who had opened the door; "I only know that he drove away with the
gentleman in a carriage."
"Did the gentleman give a name?"
"He wasn't a tall, handsome, dark young
"Oh, no, sir. He was a little gentleman,
with glasses, thin in the face, but very pleasant in his ways, for he was
laughing all the time that he was talking."
"Come along!" cried Sherlock Holmes
abruptly. "This grows serious," he observed as we drove to Scotland
Yard. "These men have got hold of Melas again. He is a man of no physical
courage, as they are well aware from their experience the other night.This
villain was able to terrorize him the instant that he got into his presence. No
doubt they want his professional services, but, having used him, they may be
inclined to punish him for what they will regard as his treachery."
Our hope was that, by taking train, we might
get to Beckenham as soon as or sooner than the carriage. On reaching Scotland
Yard, however, it was more than an hour before we could get Inspector Gregson
and comply with the legal formalities which would enable us to enter the house.
It was a quarter to ten before we reached London Bridge, and half past before
the four of us alighted on the Beckenham platform. A drive of half a mile
brought us to The Myrtles -- a large, dark house standing back from the road in
its own grounds. Here we dismissed our cab and made our way up the drive togeter.
"The windows are all dark," remarked
the inspector. "The house seems deserted."
"Our birds are flown and the nest empty,"
"Why do you say so?"
"A carriage heavily loaded with luggage
has passed out during the last hour."
The inspector laughed. "I saw the
wheel-tracks in the light of the gate-lamp, but where does the luggage come in?"
"You may have observed the same
wheel-tracks going the other way. But the outward-bound ones were very much
deeper -- so much so that we can say for a certainty that there was a very
considerable weiyht on the carriage."
"You get a trifle beyond me there,"
said the inspector, shrugging his shoulders. "It will not be an easy door
to force, but we will try if we cannot make someone hear us."
He hammered loudly at the knocker and pulled
at the bell, but without any success. Holmes had slipped away, but he came back
in a few minutes.
"I have a window open," said he.
"It is a mercy that you are on the side
of the force, and not against it, Mr. Holmes," remarked the inspector as he
noted the clever way in which my friend had forced back the catch. "Well, I
think that under the circumstances we may enter without an invitation."
One after the other we made our way into a
large apartment, which was evidently that in which Mr. Melas had found himself.
The inspector had lit his lantern, and by its light we could see the two doors,
the curtain, the lamp, and the suit of Japanese mail as he had described them.
On the table lay two glasses, an empty brandy-bottle, and the remains of a meal.
"What is that?" asked Holmes
We all stood still and listened. A low moaning
sound was coming from somewhere over our heads. Holmes rushed to the door and
out into the hall. The dismal noise came from upstairs. He dashed up, the
inspector and I at his heels. while his brother Mycroft followed as quickly as
his great bulk would permit.
Three doors faced us upon the second floor,
and it was from the central of these that the sinister sounds were issuing,
sinking sometimes into a dull mumble and rising again into a shrill whine. It
was locked, but the key had been left on the outside. Holmes flung open the door
and rushed in, but he was out again in an instant, with his hand to his throat.
"It's charcoal," he cried. "Give
it time. It will clear."
Peering in, we could see that the only light
in the room came from a dull blue flame which flickered from a small brass
tripod in the centre. It threw a livid unnatural circle upon the floor, while in
the shadows beyond we saw the vague loom of two fiyures which crouched against
the wall. From thc open door there reeked a horrible poisonous exhalation which
set us gasping and coughing. Holmes rushed to the top of the stairs to draw in
the fresh air, and then, dashing into the room, he threw up the window and
hurled the brazen tripod out into the garden.
"We can enter in a minute," he
gasped, darting out again. "Where is a candle? I doubt if we could strike a
match in that atmosphere. Hold the light at the door and we shall get them out,
With a rush we got to the poisoned men and
dragged them out into the well-lit hall. Both of them were blue-lipped and
insensible, with swollen, congested faces and protruding eyes. Indeed, so
distorted were their features that, save for his black beard and stout figure,
we might have failed to recognize in one of them the Greek interpreter who had
parted from us only a few hours before at the Diogenes Club. His hands and feet
were securely strapped together, and he bore over one eye the marks of a violent
blow. The other, who was secured in a similar fashion was a tall man in the last
stage of emaciation, with several strips of sticking-plaster arranged in a
grotesque pattern over his face. He had ceased to moan as we laid him down, and
a glance showed me that for him at least our aid had come too late. Mr. Melas,
however, still lived, and in less than an hour, with the aid of ammonia and
brandy, I had the satisfaction of seeing him open his eyes, and of knowing that
my hand had drawn him back from that dark valley in which all paths meet.
It was a simple story which he had to tell,
and one which did but confirm our own deductions. His visitor, on entering his
rooms, had drawn a life-preserver from his sleeve, and had so impressed him with
the fear of instant and inevitable death that he had kidnapped him for the
second time. Indeed, it was almost mesmeric, the effect which this giggling
ruffian had produced upon the unfortunate linguist, for he could not speak of
him save with trembling hands and a blanched cheek. He had been taken swiftly to
Beckenham, and had acted as interpreter in a second interview, even more
dramatic than the first, in which the two Englishmen had menaced their prisoner
with instant death if he did not comply with their demands. Finally, finding him
proof against every threat, they had hurled him back into his prison and after
reproaching Melas with his treachery, which appeared from the newspaper
advertisement, they had stunned him with a blow from a stick, and he remembered
nothing more until he found us bending over him.
And this was the singular case of the Grecian
Interpreter, the explanation of which is still involved in some mystery. We were
able to find out, by communicating with the gentleman who had answered the
advertisement, that the unfortunate young lady came of a wealthy Grecian family,
and that she had been on a visit to some friends in England. While there she had
met a young man named Harold Latimer, who had acquired an ascendency over her
and had eventually persuaded her to fly with him. Her friends, shocked at the
event, had contented themselves with informing her brother at Athens, and had
then washed their hands of the matter. The brother, on his arrival in England,
had imprudently placed himself in the power of Latimer and of his associate,
whose name was Wilson Kemp -- a man of the foulest antecedents. These two,
finding that through his ignorance of the language he was helpless in their
hands, had kept him a prisoner, and had endeavoured by cruelty and starvation to
make him sign away his own and his sister's property. They had kept him in the
house without the girl's knowledge, and the plaster over the face had been for
the purpose of making recognition difficult in case she should ever catch a
glimpse of him. Her feminine perceptions, however, had instantly seen through
the disguise when, on the occasion of the interpreter's visit, she had seen him
for the first time. The poor girl, however, was herself a prisoner, for there
was no one about the house except the man who acted as coachman, and his wife,
both of whom were tools of the conspirators. Finding that their secret was out,
and that their prisoner was not to be coerced, the two villains with the girl
had fled away at a few hours' notice from the furnished house which they had
hired, having first, as they thought, taken vengeance both upon the man who had
defied and the one who had betrayed them.
Months afterwards a curious newspaper cutting
reached us from Buda-Pesth. It told how two Englishmen who had been travelling
with a woman had met with a tragic end. They had each been stabbed, it seems,
and the Hungarian police were of opinion that they had quarrelled and had
inflicted mortal injuries upon each other. Holmes, however, is, I fancy, of a
different way of thinking, and he holds to this day that, if one could find the
Grecian girl, one might learn how the wrongs of herself and her brother came to