If you wait outside, I will be with you in five minutes.”
It was difficult to refuse any of Sherlock Holmes’s requests, for they were always very definite, and put forward[9] in such imperative manner. I felt, however, that when Whitney was put in the cab my mission was practically over; and for the rest, I could not wish anything better than to be together with my friend in one of those 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 figure of the old man had appeared 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, looking quickly round, he straightened himself out and burst into hearty laughter.
“I was certainly surprised to find you there,” I said.
“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 middle of a very remarkable inquiry, and I have hoped to find a clew in the mumbling of these dregs, as I have done before. If I were recognized in that den my life would not have been worth an hour’s purchase;[10] for I have used it before for my own purposes, and the evil Lascar[11] who runs it has sworn to have vengeance[12] 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! Do you mean bodies?”
“Yes, bodies, Watson. We would be rich if we had 1000 pounds for every poor man who died in that den. It is the most dangerous murder-trap on the whole riverside, and I’m afraid that Neville St. Clair has entered it to never leave it. But our cart should be here.” He put his two fingers between his teeth and whistled a signal which was answered by a similar whistle from the distance, followed by the cart, that appeared out of the darkness.
“Now, Watson,” said Holmes “You’ll come with me, won’t you?”
“If I can help you.”
“Oh, a trusty friend and a chronicler can always help. My room at The Cedars is a double-bedded one.”