Now, then. How many did you make it? Twenty. So did I. Thatshould mean T. AT—that’s intelligible enough! Another T. Surelythis is the beginning of a second word. Now, then—TENTA.
Dead stop. That can’t be all, Watson? ATTENTA gives no sense.
Nor is it any better as three words AT, TEN, TA, unless T. A. area person’s initials. There it goes again! What’s that? ATTE—why,it is the same message over again. Curious, Watson, very curious.
Now he is off once more! AT—why he is repeating it for the thirdtime. ATTENTA three times! How often will he repeat it? No,that seems to be the finish. He has withdrawn form the window.
What do you make of it, Watson?”
“A cipher message, Holmes.”
My companion gave a sudden chuckle of comprehension. “Andnot a very obscure cipher, Watson,” said he. “Why, of course, itis Italian! The A means that it is addressed to a woman. ‘Beware!
Beware! Beware!’ How’s that, Watson?
“I believe you have hit it.”
“Not a doubt of it. It is a very urgent message, thrice repeated1138 The Complete Sherlock Holmes
to make it more so. But beware of what? Wait a bit, he is comingto the window once more.”
Again we saw the dim silhouette of a crouching man and thewhisk of the small flame across the window as the signals wererenewed. They came more rapidly than before—so rapid that itwas hard to follow them.
“PERICOLO—pericolo—eh, what’s that, Watson? ‘Danger,’
isn’t it? Yes, by Jove, it’s a danger signal. There he goes again!
PERI. Halloa, what on earth—”
The light had suddenly gone out, the glimmering square ofwindow had disappeared, and the third floor formed a dark bandround the lofty building, with its tiers of shining casements. Thatlast warning cry had been suddenly cut short. How, and by whom?
The same thought occurred on the instant to us both. Holmessprang up from where he crouched by the window.
“This is serious, Watson,” he cried. “There is some devilry goingforward! Why should such a message stop in such a way? I shouldput Scotland Yard in touch with this business—and yet, it is toopressing for us to leave.”
“Shall I go for the police?”
“We must define the situation a little more clearly. It may bearsome more innocent interpretation. Come, Watson, let us goacross ourselves and see what we can make of it.”
As we walked rapidly down Howe Street I glanced back at thebuilding which we had left. There, dimly outlined at the top window,could see the shadow of a head, a woman’s head, gazing tensely,rigidly, out into the night, waiting with breathless suspense for therenewal of that interrupted message. At the doorway of the HoweStreet flats a man, muffled in a cravat and greatcoat, was leaningagainst the railing. He started as the hall-light fell upon our faces.
“Holmes!” he cried.
“Why, Gregson!” said my companion as he shook hands withthe Scotland Yard detective. “Journeys end with lovers’ meetings.
What brings you here?”
“The same reasons that bring you, I expect,said Gregson. “Howyou got on to it I can’t imagine.”
“Different threads, but leading up to the same tangle. I’ve beentaking the signals.”
“Signals?”
“Yes, from that window. They broke off in the middle. We cameover to see the reason. But since it is safe in your hands I see noobject in continuing the business.”
“Wait a bit!” cried Gregson eagerly. “I’ll do you this justice, Mr.
Holmes, that I was never in a case yet that I didn’t feel strongerThe Adventure of Wisteria Lodge 1139
for having you on my side. There’s only the one exit to these flats,so we have him safe.”
“Who is he?”
“Well, well, we score over you for once, Mr. Holmes. You mustgive us best this time.” He struck his stick sharply upon theground, on which a cabman, his whip in his hand, sauntered overfrom a four-wheeler which stood on the far side of the street. “MayI introduce you to Mr. Sherlock Holmes?” he said to the cabman.
“This is Mr. Leverton, of Pinkertons American Agency.”
“The hero of the Long Island cave mystery?” said Holmes. “Sir, Iam pleased to meet you.”
The American, a quiet, businesslike young man, with a cleanshaven,hatchet face, flushed up at the words of commendation. “Iam on the trail of my life now, Mr. Holmes,” said he. “If I can getGorgiano—”
“What! Gorgiano of the Red Circle?”
“Oh, he has a European fame, has he? Well, we’ve learned allabout him in America. We KNOW he is at the bottom of fiftymurders, and yet we have nothing positive we can take him on. Itracked him over from New York, and I’ve been close to him for aweek in London, waiting some excuse to get my hand on his collar.
Mr. Gregson and I ran him to ground in that big tenement house,and there’s only the one door, so he can’t slip us. There’s three folkcome out since he went in, but I’ll swear he wasn’t one of them.”
“Mr. Holmes talks of signals,” said Gregson. “I expect, as usual,he knows a good deal that we don’t.”
In a few clear words Holmes explained the situation as it hadappeared to us.
The American struck his hands together with vexation.
“He’s on to us!” he cried.
“Why do you think so?”
“Well, it figures out that way, does it not? Here he is, sendingout messages to an accomplice—there are several of his gang inLondon. Then suddenly, just as by your own account he was tellingthem that there was danger, he broke short off. What could itmean except that from the window he had suddenly either caughtsight of us in the street, or in some way come to understand howclose the danger was, and that he must act right away if he was toavoid it? What do you suggest, Mr. Holmes?”
“That we go up at once and see for ourselves.”
“But we have no warrant for his arrest.”
“He is in unoccupied premises under suspicious circumstances,”
said Gregson. “That is good enough for the moment. When wehave him by the heels we can see if New York can’t help us to keephim. I’ll take the responsibility of arresting him now.”
