 The Packet by Tracy A. Monnier 1877-1928 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Peter Tomlinson Mr Baltishor stood leaning heavily against a bar in the Duchess of Tech. Talking to his friend Mr Ticknet. Their friendship had endured for nearly twenty-seven years, and they still called each other Mr Baltishor and Mr Ticknet. They were on the surface a curiously ill-matched couple, and the other salesmen and buyers from Cottaways could never see what they had in common. Baltishor was a big puffy man, shabbily florid. He had a fat babyish face, with large bright eyes, which always seemed to be on the verge of tears. But whether this condition of liquefaction was due to his excessive emotionalism, or to the generally liquid state of his whole body, it would be difficult to decide. He was of an excitable nature, and though his voice seemed to come wheezing through various local derangements of his system, and was always pitched in a low key, it suggested a degree of excitement, usually of a quarrelous kind, quite remarkable in a person of his appearance. He was a man of moods too. He was not always quarrelous, in fact his quarrelousness might generally be traced to an occasional revolt of his organic system against the treatment to which it was normally subjected. There were times when he was genial, playful, kind, sentimental, and maudlin. His clothes had a certain pretentiousness of style and wealth, not sustained by the dilapidated condition of their linings and edges, and the many stains of alcohol and the burns from matches and tobacco carelessly dropped. He was the manager of the linoleum department at Cottaways. Ticknet had a similar position with regard to soft goods in the same firm, but in appearance and character he was entirely dissimilar to Baltishore. One of the junior salesmen one day called him the Chinese God, and there was indeed something of a little eastern in his reserved manner, his suavity and his great capacity for apparently minding his own business, and yet at the same time, well, nobody liked Ticknet, but they all admired his ability and most of them feared him. He was admired because he had risen from the position of being a packer in the yard to that of great influence, and he even shared the confidence of Mr. Joseph Cottaway himself. His skin was rather yellow, and he had very heavy black eyebrows and moustache and deep-set eyes, with a slight cast. His clothes were so well carved that in the bar of the Duchess of Tech they seemed almost assertively unobtrusive. Baltishore was a prolific talker, and Ticknet was a patient listener. This was perhaps one of their principal bonds of mutual understanding. They had, of course, one common interest of an absorbing nature. It bubbled and sparkled in the innumerable glasses which, at all hours of the day, Mrs. Clark and Daphne and Gladys handed to them across the bar of the Duchess of Tech, which in those days was always crowded with the salesmen and the staff of Cottaways. On this particular morning Baltishore was holding a glass in his fat fingers and breathing heavily between each sentence. He was saying, experience is the thing that counts in the furnishing trade, like anywhere else. Take any line you like, buying cork carpets, eating oysters, or extending the empire. It's the man with the experience that counts, these young fellas. Baltishore shrugged his shoulders expressively and glanced round the bar. Immediately a change came over his expression. His eyes sparkled angrily, and he shook the dregs of whiskey in his glass and dragged them off with a spluttering gop. Ticknick followed the glance of his friend and was quickly observant of the reason of Baltishore's sudden trepidation. Percy had entered the bar. Percy was Baltishore's assistant and also his bet noir. He was a slim young man dressed in the most extravagant manner. He had a pale face and a slightly receding chin. He wore a small bowl of hat with a very narrow brim, pointed patent leather boots, a very shapely overcoat which almost suggested that he wore corsets, a pale lemon tie held together by a gold pin, and a spotted green waistcoat. Percy was a very high-spirited young person and irrepressible with a genius for taking stage centre. He was invariably accompanied by several friends of his own age and he had a habit of greeting a whole bar full of men whether he knew them or not with a cheering cry of Hello, Hello, Hello, so here we are. He would deliver his greeting with such a gay abandon that everyone would look up and laugh. Men would nod and call out Hello, here's Percy, how do Percy? and even those who did not know him would be conscious of some contagious fever of geniality. The conversation would grow louder and livelier and Percy would invariably become the centre of a laughing group. In spite of his extravagance of manner, his irresponsibility, his passion for misquoting poetry, he had been marked down by several discriminating heads of the firm as a smart boy. He was indeed a very smart boy, from his gay close to his sparkling repartee with Daphne and Gladys. To Daphne it was known that he was an especial favourite. He would hold a hand across the bar and smile at her engagingly and say, And how is the moon of my delight? and other enigmatic and brilliant things. And Daphne would look at him with her sleepy, passionate eyes and say, Oh, go on, you are a one. She was a silent little thing, incredibly ignorant. She was not pretty, but she had masses of gold-brown hair and a figure rather overdeveloped. There was about her something extremely attractive to the men who frequented the Duchess of Tech, a kind of brooding motherliness. She had an appealing way of sighing and her eyes were always watchful as though in the face of every stranger she might discover the solution of her troubles. Baltishore hated Percy for several reasons. One was essentially a question of personality. He hated his aggressive exuberance, his youthfulness, his ridiculous clothes, his way of brushing back his hair and incidentally of scoring off Baltishore. He hated him because he had the habit of upsetting the placid calm of the Duchess of Tech. He created a restlessness. People did not listen so well when Percy was in the room. Moreover, he hated the way he took possession of Daphne. It is difficult to know what Baltishore's ideas were with regard to Daphne. He was himself a widower aged 56 and he lived in a small flat in Bloomsbury with his two daughters, who were both about Daphne's age. He never made love to her, but he treated her with a sort of proprietary sense of confidence. He told her all about himself. In the morning when the bar was empty he would expatiate on the various ailments which had assailed him overnight. His sleeplessness, his indigestion, his loss of appetite, and he found her very sympathetic. They would discuss Pong's pills exhaustively and their effect on the system. But eventually Mr Baltishore would say that he thought he would try just a wee drop of scotch and so he would start his day. It must, an ass, be acknowledged that the accumulated years of his convivial mode of life were beginning to tell him Baltishore. Oh, really Mr Baltishore? It's too bad. Have you ever tried Pong's pills? I'm sorry. He was not the man he was. At his best he was a good salesman. He knew the cork lino industry inside out. He had had endless experience but there were days of fuddlement, days when he would make grievous mistakes, forget appointments, go wrong in his calculations and the directors were not unobservant of the deterioration of his work and of his personal appearance. There was a very big rumour that Baltishore was to be superseded by a younger man. This rumour had reached Baltishore himself and he accepted it with ironic incredulity. How can anyone manage lino without experience? he said. Nevertheless the rumour had worried him of late and had increased his sleeplessness. He was conscious of himself, the vast moral bulk of himself rolling down the hill. He knew he'd never be able to give up drinking. He had no intention of trying. He'd been at it too long. He'd managed in his time to save nearly a thousand pounds. If he were sacked it would bring in a little bit but not enough to live on. About fifty pounds a year but he spent quite this amount in the bar of the Duchess of Tech alone. He would have to hunt round for another job. It'd be ignominious and it might be difficult to secure at his age. This was then another reason disliking Percy for the smart boy's name had been mentioned in this very connection and what did this soapy headed young fool know about cork carpets? What experience had he had? A paltry two years. He was too, so insufferably familiar and insolent. He had even once had the audacity to address Baltishore as Mr Bulkychops a pseudonym that was not only greasy with rows of laughter but had been adopted by others. On this morning then when Percy made his accustomed entrance with its reverer accompaniment hello hello hello so here we all are. Mr Bultychore's hand trembled and he turned his back and muttered the young... the yellow face of Ticknet turned in the direction of Percy but it was quite expressionless and he made no comment. He lighted another cigarette and looked across the bar at Daphne. The girl's cheeks were dimpled with smiles. Percy was talking to her. Suddenly Ticknet said to her in his chilling voice I want two more Scotch whiskies and a split soda. The girl looked up and the dimples left her cheeks. She seemed almost imperceptibly to shrink within herself. He poured out the drinks and handed them to Ticknet. Bultychore continued his querulous complaints about the insolence of young and ignorant men trying to oust older and more experienced men from their hardy fought for positions. And Ticknet listened and his dark mustache moved in a peculiar way as he said yes yes I quite agree with you Mr Bultychore it's too bad. A week later there was a sudden and dramatic turn of events in the firm of Cottaways much to everybody's surprise Percy was suddenly sacked without any reason being given and Bultychore was retained. In fact Bultychore was given another two years contract on the same terms as before. To what extent Ticknet was responsible for this development or what was really at the back of it all nobody was ever quite clear. It is certain that on the day of Percy's dismissal these two friends dined together and spent an evening of a somewhat bacchanalian character. It is known that at that time Ticknet had been conspicuously successful over some deal in tapestries with a French firm and that he had lunched one day alone with Mr Joseph Cottaway. It is doubtful even whether he ever gave the precise details of his machinations to Bultychore himself. The result certainly had the appearance of quickening their friendship. They called each other dear old fellow and there were many whispered implications about insolent young swine. The career of Percy was watched with interest. Of course he took his dismissal with a laugh and entertained a party of his friends to a hilarious farewell supper. But it happened that that summer was a peculiar stagnant one in the furnishing world. The brilliant youth did not find it so easy to secure another situation. He was observed at first swinging about the West End in his splendidly nonchalant manner and he still frequented the bar of the Duchess of Tech but gradually these appearances became more rare. As the months went by he began to lose a little of his self-assurance and swagger and it is even to be regretted that his gay clothes began to show evidences of wear. He once secured a situation at a small firm in Bayswater but at the end of three weeks he was again dismissed the proprietor going bankrupt owing to some unfortunate speculation. It would be idle to imagine what Percy's career would have been had not the war broken out in August when he was still out of employment. He volunteered for service the morning after the war was declared and then indeed there was a great scene of bilbilous enthusiasm in the Duchess of Tech. He was toasted and treated and everyone was crying out well good luck Percy old man. And Percy was in the highest spirits and borrowed money from everyone to stand free to everyone else and Daphne cried quite openly and in the corner of the bar Baltishore was whispering to Ticknet this will knock the starch out of the young swine and Ticknet replied he'll get killed. There was at times a certain curious finality about Ticknet's statements they had a way of making people shudder. Baltishore laughed uncomfortably and repeated it'll knock the starch out of him. The departure of Percy was soon almost forgotten in the bewardment of drama that began to convulse Europe. Others went also there was upheaval and something of a panic in the furnishing world every man had his own interest to consider and there was the big story unfolding day by day to absorb all their attention perhaps the only man among all the devotees of the Duchess of Tick who thought considerably about Percy was Baltishore. It was very annoying but he could not dismiss the young man from his thoughts. When the autumn came on and the cold November rains washed the London streets Baltishore would suddenly think of Percy and he would shiver. Percy had been sent to some camp in Essex for his training and often in the night Baltishore would wake up and visualise Percy sleeping out in the open getting wet through to the skin possibly getting rheumatic fever. He was a ridiculously delicate looking young man quite unfitted to be a soldier. It occurred to Baltishore more than once that if he and Ticknit hadn't if Percy had secured his position which everybody said was his due he wouldn't have been sent out into all this and all this was a terrible thing to Baltishore. During the 56 years of his life he had made a god of comfort. He loved warmth, good cheer, food, drink, security the alternative seemed to him hell. He could not believe that there could be a sort of compensation in discomfort and hardship in restraint and discipline and self-abnegation. It was a thing he could not understand and then at the end was the awful thing itself he could not bear to dwell on that. He drank more prodigiously than ever. The firm of Cottaways was reorganised and Baltishore would have undoubtedly have had the sack of time for his two years' contract. As it was expenses in every respect were cut down and Baltishore's royalties only amounted to a very small sum. He lived above his salary and broke into his capital. He seemed more and more to rely on Ticknit. The manager of soft goods seemed to him the one stable thing in a shifting world. When Percy one day made his sudden meteoric and final appearance in the Duchess of Tech the whole thing seemed like a dream. The usual crowd was gathered just before lunch drinking gins and bitters and whiskey and beer and talking about our navy and our army and our government and what we should do to the Germans. When the level of hum of conversation was broken by a loud and breezy Hello, hello, hello So here we all are and lo and behold there was Percy looking somehow bigger than usual the general gaiety of his appearance emphasised by pink complexion a distinct increase of girth and a beautiful khaki suit and Baltishore found himself clapped on the back and the same voice was exclaiming Well, how are you bulky chops looking better than ever on my word and then the bowels immediately in a roar of conviviality everybody struggled for the honour of standing Percy drinks poor he explained that he was off the next day to France it is to be feared that during that afternoon Percy got rather drunk he certainly indulged in violent moves between boisterous hilarity and a certain sullen pugnacity at intervals he would continually ask for tichnet but to Baltishore's surprise tichnet had disappeared almost immediately Percy entered the bar and was not seen again that day while on the other side Daphne stood cowering against some mahogany casings looking deadly pale with great black rings around her eyes Percy was quite friendly to Baltishore and introduced him to a friend of his in the same regiment named Prosa a young man who had previously been in a drapery store it was not till later in the evening that the dull rumble of some imminent tragedy caused the vast bulk of the linoleum manager's body to tremble he had been conscious of it all the afternoon he was frightened he did not like the way Percy had asked for tichnet he did not like tichnet's disappearance and above all Daphne had cowered against the wall there was something at the back of all this something uncomfortable he dreaded things of this nature why couldn't people go on quietly eating and drinking and being comfortable he avoided the Duchess of Tech and actually stayed late at his work and caught up some arrears he decided to go quickly home when he got outside he commenced to walk when suddenly Percy came out of the doorway and took hold of his arm Baltishor started what is it? what do you want? he said there was something very curious about Percy he had never seen him like that before he had been drinking but he was not drunk in fact Baltishor had never seen him in some way so sober, so grimly serious his lips were trembling and his eyes were unnaturally bright he ripped Baltishor's coat and said where is your friend tichnet? I don't know, I haven't seen him since this morning Baltishor answered will you swear he isn't in the building and that you don't know where he is? yes gasped the cork lino manager Percy looked into his eyes for some moments and then he said clearly tichnet knows that I've got to report first thing in the morning I've just seen Daphne home there'll be a packet for tichnet do you see? I say there'll be a packet for him do you understand bulky chops? Baltishor was very frightened he did not know a bit what the young man meant he only knew that he wanted to get away he didn't want to be mixed up in this he mumbled I see him packet I'll tell no you needn't tell him answer the soldier I'm saying this for your benefit I say there'll be a packet for him do you understand there'll be a packet for him and he melted into the night from the day when Percy disappeared with these mysterious words on his lips to the day when the news came that he'd been killed there was an interval of time that varied according to the occupation and the preoccupation of his particular acquaintances to Baltishor it appeared a very long time but this may have been partly due to the fact that in the interval he had spent most of the time in bed with a very serious illness he had been lying on his back staring at the ceiling and he had not been allowed to drink the time had consequently hung very heavily on his hands and his thoughts had been feeding on each other and the exact time was in effect 11 weeks during the latter part of this period his friend Ticknick paid him many visits and had been very kind and attentive and it was he indeed who brought the news that Percy had been killed it was one evening when it was nearly dark and Baltishor was sitting up in his dressing-gown in front of the fire and his daughter Elsie was sitting on the other side of the fireplace sewing Ticknick paid one of his customary visits Elsie showed him to an easy chair between the two and after Ticknick's solicitous inquiries regarding Baltishor's health the two men reverted to their usual discussion of the staff of Cottaways and their friends suddenly Ticknick remarked quite casually oh by the way young Percy has been killed at the front and then the room seemed to become violently darker Baltishor struggled to frame some suitable comment upon this but the words failed to come he sat there with his fat puffy hands pressing the sides of his easy chair at last he said Elsie you might go and get my beef tea ready when his daughter had gone out of the room he still had nothing to say he had not dismissed her for the purpose of speaking about the matter to Ticknick but certainly because a strange mood had come to him that he could not trust himself in the gathering darkness he could see the shallow mask of his friend's face looking at the fire and his cold eyes peering beneath his heavy brows Baltishor at length managed to say any particulars and Ticknick replied no it was in the papers yesterday and then Ticknick smiled and added so you won't have to bother about your job any longer Mr Baltishor and Baltishor thought there'll be a packet for you Ticknick a packet do you understand and by God you'll deserve it he was still uncertain of what the packet would contain but he thought a lot about it during his illness and he was sure the packet would contain something unpleasant if not terrible and yet Ticknick was his friend in fact his only friend the man who had saved him in a crisis and who waited on him in his sickness he tried to pull himself together and he managed to say in his normally wheezy voice I hope to be back next week and indeed on the following Tuesday he did once more report himself to the heads of the firm he was still very weak and ill and the doctor had warned him to avoid alcohol in any form but by half past twelve he felt so exhausted he decided a little whisker milk might help him get through the day he crawled round to the Duchess of Tech and was soon amongst his congenial acquaintances it was very warm, very pleasant and ingratiating the atmosphere of the bar he ordered his whisker milk and then became aware of a striking vacancy Daphne was not there Mrs Clark and Gladys were busy serving drinks and a tall thin girl was helping them a peculiar sense of misgiving came to Baltishore he did not like to say anything about it to Mrs Clark but he turned to an old habituee named Benjamin Strigg and he whispered, where's Daphne today Mr Strigg? and Mr Strigg answered, Daphne she ain't been here for nearly three months there was some story about her and young Percy I've really forgotten what it was all about of course, you've been away Mr Baltishore you've missed all the spicy news eh? they never interest me, ha ha ha can I order you another whisker milk? Baltishore declined with thanks and stood there sucking his pipe in a few minutes Tickner entered the bar he appeared to be quite cheerful and for him garrelous he was very solicitous about Baltishore's health and insistent that he should not stand near a draft he talked optimistically about the war and Baltishore replied in mono syllables and all the time the ridiculous thought kept racing through his mind you're going to get a packet, my friend it was a week later that Proser turned up he was one of the eleven men the sole survivors of a regiment Percy's regiment Proser was slightly wounded in the foot and had strangely altered he stammered and was no longer a gay companion he had a wild abstracted look as though he had lost the power of listening and was entirely occupied with inner visions they could get little information out of him about Percy he described certain scenes and experiences very vividly but the description did not convey much to most of the men for the reason that they were entirely devoid of imagination the regiment had, as a matter of fact been ambushed and practically annihilated a mind had done some deadly work he had seen Percy and another man come into the lines in the morning it was just daybreak they'd been on listening patrol he had seen them both making their way along a trench to a dugout to the very spot where five minutes later the mind blew up didn't you never see Percy again, someone asked no, answered the warrior but I heard him laugh laugh? yes, you know the way he used to laugh loud and clear he must have been two hundred yards away suddenly he laughed and I says to Peters, who was on my right arc at that blighter, Percy seems to think even this is amusing I hadn't got the words out of my mouth when just as though the whole valley earth had burst into a gas not a quarter of a mile away thought I was gone myself right over in the quarter where Percy had gone thousands of tons of mud flung up into the sky you could hear the earth being ripped to pieces and there were men in it oh, gourd Baltishor shuddered and felt faint and the rest of the company seemed to think they were hearing a rather highly coloured account of some quite inconceivable phenomenon Prosser was further detailing his narrative when he happened to drop a phrase that was very illuminating to Baltishor he was speaking of another man some of them knew, named Bates the phrase he used was Charlie Bates got a packet too a packet? Baltishor paid for his drink and went out into the street he felt rather hot and cold around the temples he took a cab home and went straight to bed explaining to his daughters that he had had a very heavy day when he rolled between the sheets the true meaning of that sinister phrase getting a packet kept revolving through his mind it was evidently the military expression and very terse and grim and sardonic it was these men who met a violent end got a packet Perse had got a packet Bates had got a packet but why should Tichnet dividing his days between a furnishing house and a saloon bar get a packet? it was incredible preposterous men who went out to fight for their country well, they might expect it but not men who lead simple, honest commercial lives if Tichnet got a packet why should he not himself get a packet? he fast asleep this night but there was one problem he determined to try and solve on the morrow somehow Baltishor could not bring himself to ask Mrs Clark about Daphne and Gladys, whom you always suspected of laughing at him he would certainly not question he eventually got to address from a potman who had carried some of her things home for her when he did get her address it took him over a week to make up his mind to visit her he thumbed the envelope and breathed heavily on it put it back in his pocket and took it out again and tried to dismiss it from his mind but the very touch of it seemed to burn his body at length on the following Saturday night he tucked it finally into his waistcoat pocket and set out in the direction of Kilburn it was very dark when he found the obscure street and the number of the address was a gaunt house of four stories above a low-class restaurant where sausages and slabs of fish were frying in the window to tempt the hungry passers-by he stumbled up the dark stairs and was told by two children whom he could not see that Miss Allen lived on the third floor he rang the wrong bell on the third floor there were two lots of inhabitants and was told by a lady that she liked his bleedin' cheek waking her in her first sleep ringing the wrong bell and the door was slammed in his face he tried the other bell and the door was opened immediately by a gaunt woman who said, who's that? oh, I thought it was the doctor Baltishore asked if Miss Daphne Allen lived there and gave his own name the woman stared at him and then said wait a minute she shut the door and left him outside after a time she came back and said what do you want? Baltishore said I just want to speak to her for a few minutes the woman again retired and left him for nearly five minutes he stood there shivering with cold on the stone stairs and listening to the strange mixture of noises children quarrelling in the street below and in the room opposite someone playing a mouth organ at last the woman came back she said, come in he followed her into a pokey room dimly lit by a tin paraffin lamp with a pink glass in the corner of the room was a bed on which the woman was lying feeding a baby her face looked white and thin and her hair was bound up in a shawl it was Daphne she looked at him listlessly and said well, have you brought any money from him? Baltishore stood blinking at her unable to comprehend whom did she mean by him? he coughed and tried to formulate some sympathetic inquiry when suddenly the gaunt woman who had shown him in turned on him and cried well, what the hell are you standing there like that for? you've come from him, I suppose you're as great as Powell, ain't ye? we've never seen a father of his money yet since the dirty blackard did her in what have you come slobbering up ear for if it ain't to bring some money? the bloody hound if it ain't been for him she might be a wife of a respectable soldier and getting her maintenance and pension and all that there was a sob from the bed and a pleading voice that cried auntie, auntie and the baby started to cry while these little things were happening the slow moving mind of Baltishore for once worked rapidly came to a conclusion and formed a resolution he moved fondestly to the lamp took out his purse he looked across the lamp at Daphne and said he sends you this he's sorry not to have sent before he, the elder woman dashed toward the table and looked at the money how much is it? she said and then turning to Daphne she laughed who quid? that's better than nothing is there any more to come? Baltishore again looked at Daphne she was bending over the child she seemed indifferent a strand of her hair was broken loose beneath the shore Baltishore stammered yes, of course there he'll be the same again how often winds the elder woman two pounds every fortnight I'll bring it myself the man blew his nose and shuffled from one foot to another are you getting better? is there anything else? he mumbled oh no, why the elder woman we're living in a lap of luxury everything we could want ain't we sissy the woman on the bed did not answer and Baltishore fumbled his way out of the room that night Baltishore had a mild return of his illness he was very feverish his mind became occupied by visions of Percy Percy the gay, the debonair there was a long line of populace by a canal and some low buildings of a factory on the left the earth was seen with jagged cuts and holes men were burrowing their way underground like moles the thing was like a torn fringe of humanity wildly insane it was very dark but one was conscious that vast numbers of men were scratching their way towards each other zigzagging in a drunken frenzied manner there was a stench of decaying matter and some chemical even more penetrating there were millions and millions of men but they were all invisible silently scratching and listening suddenly amidst the dead silence there was the loud burst of Percy's laughter just as he had laughed in the bar of the Duchess of Tech and his voice rang through the night hello hello hello so here we all are and this challenge seemed to awaken the lurking passions of the night Baltishore groaned and started up in bed and cried out oh god a thousand tons of mud a thousand tons of mud on the following day Baltishore made a grievous mistake in his accounts he was severely hauled over the coals by the directors as the weeks proceeded he made other mistakes he became a roast and abstracted he drank his whiskey with less and less soda till he was drinking it almost neat old bulky chops brains going said some of the other salesmen he would lean up against the bar and stare at tic net their old compositional relationship became reversed it was Baltishore who listened and tic net who did the talking the soft goods manager appeared to be an excellent trim at the time he seemed more lighthearted than he had been for years he spoke in his quiet voice about the tactics of Russian generals and the need for general compulsion in this country for everybody up to the age of 45 tic net was 47 at Christmas time he sent Baltishore a case of old port wine his position in the firm became more assured it was said that tic net had brought a large block of shares in Cottaways Limited and that he stood a good chance of being put on the board of directorship and Baltishore watched his upward progress with a curious intentness he himself was blundering down the hill he had made a large inroad into his capital and the day could not be far distanced when he would be dismissed every fortnight he went out to Kilburn and took two sovereigns and never spoke of this to tic net Elsie Baltishore was very mysterious in her black crepe dress she bustled about the small room holding the teapot in her hand they'd say you should never speak ill of the dead she whispered to her visitor she emptied a packet of tea into a caddy and tipped three teaspoons full into the pot of course she continued it's very hard on me and Dorothy it's lucky Dorothy's got that job at the war office or I don't know what we'd do your poor father was not a careful man I know my dear said the visitor Elsie poured the boiling water onto the tea leaves and sighed it wasn't only that my dear she answered she coughed and then added in the low voice there was some woman in the case of course poor father's illness cost a lot of money what with doctors and specialists and lots of time in that but it seems he'd been keeping this woman too taking her money every fortnight when everything settled up there won't be more than 20 pounds a year for me and Dorothy dear dear said the visitor it's all very tragic my dear you can't think Elsie continued warming to the excitement of her narrative what we've been through we could never have lived through it if it hadn't been for Mr Ticknet he's been kindness itself and such an extraordinary hallucination poor father had about him I didn't tell you did I dear no dear I'll never forget that night father came home he'd been drinking of course but it wasn't only that I've never seen him like it he just raved it was very late and me and Dorothy were going to bed he came stumbling into this room his eyes looking all bright and glassy like he started by saying that the dead could speak he said he'd only obeyed the voice of the dead and then he said something about a packet and about Mr Ticknet I was terrified he described something he said he had just done he walked about the room he pointed to that corner look he says Ticknet was standing there there had been a dinner to celebrate Mr Ticknet's election onto the board of directors of Cottaways I never take my eyes off him all the evening father says it was after the dinner and we went into the saloon Ticknet was surrounded by his friends I watched his lying treacherous yellow face working all around and suddenly a voice spoke to me a voice from some dim field in France it says Ticknet's going to have a packet and then I drew my revolver and shot him through the face Dorothy shrieked and I tried to get father to bed of course it was all rubbish he'd never shot no one it was just raving he knows that Mr Ticknet's been father's best friend he's helped him crowds of times a nicer man you couldn't meet he's coming to tea on Sunday we managed to get poor father to bed and to get a doctor but it was no good he babbled like a child all night it was so funny like he really was like a child he kept on repeating a thousand tons of mud and then suddenly about morning he got quite quiet and his face looked like some great babies lying there he died quite peaceful Elsie performed a little mild weep and the visitor indulged in various exclamations of sympathy and interest oh dear she concluded it's dreadful the things people imagine when they're like that Elsie went over all the details again and the visitor recounted a tragic episode she had heard of in connection with a corporal's widow who was a relation of her own landlady they discussed the dreadful war and its effect on the price of bacon and margarine after her departure Elsie washed out and ironed some handkerchiefs and then prepared her sister's supper Dorothy arrived home about seven and the two sisters discussed the events of the day they sat in front of the fire and listened to a pot stewing at a sudden pause Dorothy looked into the fire and said do you think Ticknett's really keen on me Elsie? Elsie giggled and kissed her sister you'd have to be blind not to see that, she said and then she whispered are you really keen on him? the younger sister continued staring into the fire I don't know, I think I am isn't this stew nearly done? Elsie again giggled and proceeded to dish up the stew before this operation was completed there was a knock at the door Elsie said oh curse! and went and opened it in the doorway stood a woman with a small parcel her face was deadly white and her lips colourless she looked like a woman to whom everything that could happen had happened long ago and the result had left her lifeless and indifferent she said listlessly are you Miss Baltishaw? and Elsie said yes the woman entered and looked round the room may I speak to you a moment? is this your sister? she said Elsie answered yes, what do you want? I want to make an explanation and to give you some money she untied the packet and placed some notes onto the tablecloth what the hell's this? exclaimed Elsie this is all I could find muttered the listless woman I found them in his breast pocket they belonged to your father it wasn't your father at all who ought to have paid he ought to have paid so I've taken them from him I hope there's enough I'm afraid there may not be it's all I have it's only right you should have it the two sisters stared at her and involuntarily drew closer together it was Dorothy who eventually managed to speak what are you talking about? who do you mean by him? Tick-knack the sisters gasped and Dorothy gave a little cry here, what do you mean? she said breathlessly have you pinched this money from Tick-knack? you'd better be careful he's coming here we'll have you arrested the listless woman shook her hand no, no she said in her toneless voice have you believed that? he won't come here why won't he come here? was a note of challenge the strange visitor stood staring vacantly at the fire she seemed not to have heard her lips were trembling suddenly she answered in the same dull, lifeless manner because he's lying on my bed with a bullet through his heart end of the packet a monnier recording by Peter Tomlinson People Soup by Alan Arkin this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org read by Dale Grossman when you took pot luck with this kitchen scientist not even the poor pot was lucky People Soup by Alan Arkin Bonnie came home from school and found her brother in the kitchen doing something important at the sink she knew it was important because he was making a mess and talking to himself the sink drain was loaded down with open soda bottles a sack of flour cornmeal, dog biscuits molasses, bromo seltzer a tin of sardines and a box of soap chips was covered with drippings and every cupboard in the kitchen was open at the moment Bonnie's brother was putting all his energy into shaking a plastic juicer that was half filled with an ominous looking frothy mixture Bonnie waited a moment keeping well out of range and then said hi Bob low he answered without looking up where's mom? shopping Bonnie inched a little closer then Bob she asked nothing can I watch? no Bonnie took this as a cue to advance two cautious steps she knew from experience how close she could approach her brother when he was being creative and still maintained a peaceful neutrality Bob slopped a cup full of ketchup into the juicer added a can of powdered mustard a drop of mill six aspirin being careful to spill a part of each package used Bonnie moved a little closer are you making another experiment? she asked who wants to know? Bob asked in his mad scientist voice as he swaggered over to the refrigerator and took out an egg some old bacon fat a capsult vitamin pill yesterday's jello and a bottle of clam juice me wants to know if Bonnie rolled out of the refrigerator and fallen on the floor why should I tell you I have a quarter where'd you get it? mom gave it to me if you give it to me I'll tell you what I'm doing it's not worth it I'll let you be my assistant too still not worth it for ten cents? okay ten cents she counted out the money to her brother what should I do now Bob? get the salt Bob instructed he poured the sardine oil from the can into the juicer being very careful not to let the sardines fall in when he had squeezed the last drop of oil out of the can he ate all the sardines and tossed the can into the sink Bonnie went after the salt and when she lifted out the box she found a package containing two chocolate graham crackers mom has a new hiding place Bob she announced Bob looked up where is it? behind the salt what did you find? two chocolate grams Bobby held out his hand accepting one of the crackers without thanks and proceeded to crumble the whole thing into his concoction not even stopping to lick the chocolate off his hands Bonnie frowned in disbelief she had never seen such self-sacrifice the act made her aware for the first time of the immense significance of the experiment she dropped her quarrel completely and walked over to the sink to get a good look at what was being done all she saw in the sink was a wadded wet cornflakes box the empty sardine tin and the spillings from the juicer which by this time was beginning to take on a distinctive and unpleasant odor Bob gave Bonnie the job of adding seven pinches of salt and some cocoa to the concoction what's it going to be, Bob? she asked blending the cocoa on her hands into her yellow corduroy skirt stuff, Bob answered unbending a little government stuff? nope spaceship stuff? nope medicine? nope I give up on this thumb on the sardine can glancing unemotionally at the cut ignoring it what's animal serum, Bob? it's certain properties without which the universe in eternity regards for human beings oh, Bonnie said she took off her apron and sat down at the other end of the kitchen the smell of the juicer was beginning to reach her stomach Bobby combed the kitchen for something else to throw into his concoction and came up with some oregano and liquid garlic I guess this is about it, he said he poured the garlic and oregano into his juicer put the lid on shook it furiously for a minute and then emptied the contents into a deep pot what are you going to do now, Bob? Bonnie asked you have to cook it for seven minutes Bobby lit the stove put a cover on the pot set the timer for ten minutes and left the room Bonnie tagged after him and the two of them got involved in a rough game of basketball in the living room bing! said the timer Bob dropped the basketball on Bonnie's head and ran back into the kitchen it's all done, he said and took the cover off the pot only his dedication to his work kept him from showing the discomfort he felt with the smell that the pot gave forth few, said Bonnie what do we do with it now throw it out no, stupid, we have to stir it until it cools and then drink it drink it! Bonnie wrinkled her nose how come we have to drink it Bobby said because that's what you do with experiments, stupid but Bob, it smells like garbage medicine smells worse and it makes you healthy Bob said while stirring the pot with an old wooden spoon Bonnie held her nose stood on tiptoe and looked in at the cooking solution will this make us healthy maybe, Bob kept stirring what will it do you'll see Bob took two clean dish towels draped them around the pot and carried it over to the Formica kitchen table in the process he managed to dip both towels and burned his already sliced thumb one plastic handle of the pot was still smoldering from being too near the fire but none of these things seemed to have the slightest effect on him he put the pot down in the middle of the table and stared at it chin in hand Bonnie plopped down opposite him put her chin in her hands and asked we have to drink that stuff yep who has to drink it first Bob made no sign of having heard I thought so said Bonnie still no comment what if it kills me Bobby spoke by raising his whole head and keeping his jaw stationary in his hands how could it hurt you there's nothing but pure food in there Bonnie also sat and stared how much of that stuff do I have to drink just a little bit stick one finger in it and lick it off Bonnie pointed a cautious finger at the tarry looking brew and slowly immersed it until it barely covered the nail is that enough plenty said Bob in a judicious tone Bonnie took her finger out of the pot and stared at it for a moment what if I get sick you can't get sick there's aspirin and vitamins in it too Bonnie sighed and wrinkled her nose well here goes she said she licked off a little bit Bob watched her with his television version of a scientific look what do you feel he inquired Bonnie answered it's not so bad once it goes down you can taste the chocolate graham cracker Bonnie was really enjoying the attention hey she said I'm starting to get a funny feeling in my and before she could finish the sentence there was a loud pop Bob's face registered extreme disappointment she sat quite still for a moment and then said what happened you turned into a chicken the little bird lifted its wings and looked down at itself how come I'm a chicken Bob it said cocking its head to one side and staring at him with its left eye ah nuts he explained I expected you to be more of a pigeon thing he mulled over the ingredients of his stew to see what went wrong the chicken hopped around the chair on one leg flapped its wings experimentally and found itself on the kitchen table it walked to the far corner and peered into a small mirror that hung on the side of the sink cabinet I'm a pretty ugly chicken boy he said it inspected itself with its other eye and finding no improvement walked back to Bobby I don't like to be a chicken Bob it said why not what does it feel like it feels skinny and I can't see so good how else does it feel that's all it feels make me stop being it first tell me better what it's like I told you already make me stop being it what are you afraid of why don't you see what it's like first before you change back this is a valuable experience the chicken turned to put its hands on its hips but could find neither hips nor hands you better change me back boy it said and gave Bob a left eye glare will you stop being stupid what's it like first Bob was finding it difficult to understand her lack of curiosity wait until Mom sees what an ugly mess I am boy will you ever get it Bonnie was trying very hard to see Bob with both eyes at once which was impossible you're a sissy Bonnie you ruined the opportunity of a lifetime I'm disgusted with you Bob dipped his forefinger into the serum the chicken it pecked what it could from the finger and tilted its head back in an instant the chicken was gone and Bonnie was back she climbed down from the table wiped her eyes and said it's a good thing you fixed me boy would you ever have got it ah you're nothing but a sissy Bob said and licked off the whole finger full of his formula if I change into a horse I won't let you ride me and if I change into a leopard I'll bite your head off once again a loud pop was heard Bonnie stood up why died oh Bob she said you're beautiful what am I Bob asked you're a beautiful saint Bernard Bob let's go show Melissa and Chuck a saint Bernard the animal looked disgusted I don't want to be no dog I want to be a leopard but you're beautiful Bob go look in the mirror nah the dog paddled over to the table what are you going to do Bob I'm going to try it again the dog put its front paws on the table knocked over the serum and lapped up some as it dripped on the floor Pop went the serum taking effect Bob remained on all fours and lapping Pop went the serum again what am I now he asked you're still a saint Bernard said Bonnie the devil with it then said the dog let's forget all about it the dog took one last lap of serum Pop Bobby got up from the floor and dejectedly started out the back door Bonnie skipped after him what do we do now Bob she asked we'll go down to thrifties and get some ice cream they walked down the hill silently Bob brooding over not having been a leopard and Bonnie wishing he'd stayed a saint Bernard as they approached the main street of the small town Bonnie turned to her brother you want to make some more of that stuff tomorrow not the same stuff said Bob what will we make instead I ain't decided yet you want to make an atomic bomb maybe can we do it with a juicer sure said Bob only I'll have to get a couple of onions the end of people soup by Alan Arkin a reminiscence of the back settlements by Mark Twain this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org read by Dale Grossman a reminiscence of the back settlements by Mark Twain now that corpse said the undertaker patting the folded hands of the deceased approvingly was a brick every way you took him he was a brick he was so real accommodating and so modest like and simple in his last moment Franz wanted metallic burial case nothing else would do I couldn't get it there weren't going to be time anybody could see that the corpse said never mind shake him up some kind of box he could stretch out in comfortable he wasn't particular about the general style of it said he went more on room than style anyway in the final container Franz wanted a silver door plate on the coffin signifying who he was and where he was from now you know a fellow can't roused out such a gaily thing as that in a little country town like this what did the corpse say corpse said quite wash his old canoe and dob his address and general destination onto it with a blacking brush and a stencil plate long with the verse of some mark him COD and just let him skip along he weren't distressed any more than you be on the contrary just as calm and collected as a hearse horse said he judged that where he was going a body would find it considerable better to attract attention by a picturesque moral character than a nanny burial case with a swelled door plate on it splendid man he was I'd rather do for a corpse like that than any I've tackled in seven years there are some satisfaction in burying a man like that you feel that what you're doing is appreciated Lord bless you so he got planted before he spoiled he was perfectly satisfied said his relations met well perfectly well but all them preparations was bound to delay the thing more or less and he didn't wish to keep laying around never see such a clear head as what he had and so calm and so cool just a hunk of brains that is what he was perfectly awful it was a ripping distance from one end of that man's head to tether often and over again he had brain fever arranging in one place and the rest of the pile didn't know anything about it didn't affect it any more than an engine insurrection in Arizona affects the Atlantic states well the relations wanted a big funeral but Corp said he was down on flummary didn't want any procession fill the hearse full of mourners and get out a stern line and tow him behind he was the most down on style of any remains I ever struck a beautiful, simple minded creature it was what he was you can depend on that he was just sad on having things the way he wanted them and he took a solid comfort in laying his little plans he had me measure him and take a whole raft of directions then he had a minister stand up behind a long box with a tablecloth over it and read his funeral sermon saying Angkor, Angkor at the good places and making him scratch out every bit of brag about him and all the highfalutin and then he made him trot out the choir so he could help him pick out the tunes for the occasion and he got him to sing pop goes the weasel because he'd always liked that tune when he was downhearted and solemn music made him sad and when they sung that with tears in their eyes because they all loved him and his relations grieving around he just laid there as happy as a bug and trying to beat time and showing all over how much he enjoyed it and presently he got worked up and excited and tried to join in for mind you he was pretty proud of his abilities in the singing line but the first time he opened his mouth and was just going to spread himself his breath took a walk I never saw a man snuffed out so sudden I was a great loss it was a powerful loss to this poor little one horse town well, well, well I ain't got time to be pilaverin along here got to nail on the lid and mosey along with him and if you'll give me a lift we'll skeet him into the hearse and meander along relations bound to have it so don't pay no attention to dying instructions minute a corpse is gone but if I had it my way if I didn't respect his last wishes and tow him behind the hearse I'll be cussed I consider that whatever a corpse wants done for his comfort is a little enough matter and a man ain't got no right to deceive him or take advantage of him and whatever the corpse trusts me to do I'm a gonna do you know, even if it's to stuff him and paint him yellow and keep him for a keepsake you hear me? he cracked his whip and went lumbering away with his ancient ruin of a hearse and I continued my walk with a valuable lesson learned that a healthy and wholesome cheerfulness is not necessarily impossible to any occupation the lesson is likely to be lasting for it will take many months to obliterate the memory of the remarks and the circumstances that impressed him the end of a reminiscence of the back settlements by Mark Twain the resident patient by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle 1859 to 1930 this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Peter Tomlinson in glancing over the somewhat incoherent series of memoirs in which I have endeavoured to illustrate a few of the mental peculiarities of my friend Mr Sherlock Holmes I have been struck by the difficulty which I have experienced in picking out examples where it shall in every way answer my purpose for in those cases in which Holmes has performed some tour de force of analytical reasoning and has demonstrated the value of his peculiar methods of investigation the facts themselves have often been so slight or so commonplace that I could not feel justified in laying them before the public on the other hand it has frequently happened that he has been concerned in some research where the facts have been of the most remarkable and dramatic character but where the share which he has himself taken in determining their causes has been less pronounced than I as his biographer could wish the small matter which I have chronicled under the heading of a study in Scarlett and that other later one connected with the loss of the Gloria Scott may serve as examples of this skillier and chatter bidis which are forever threatening the historian it may be that in the business of which I am now about to write the part which my friend played is not sufficiently accentuated and yet the whole train of circumstances is so remarkable that I cannot bring myself to omit it entirely from this series I cannot be sure of the exact date for some of my memoranda upon the matter have been mislead but it must have been towards the end of the first year during which Holmes and I shared chambers in Baker Street it was boisterous October weather and we had both remained indoors all day because I feared with my shaken health to face the keen autumn wind while he was steep in some of those abstruse chemical investigations which absorbed him utterly as long as he was engaged upon them towards evening however the breaking of a test tube brought his research to a premature ending and he sprang up from his chair with an exclamation of impatience and a clouded brow a day's work ruined Watson said he striding across to the window the stars are out and the wind has fallen what do you say to a ramble through London I was weary of our little sitting room and gladly acquiesced for three hours we strolled about together watching the ever-changing kaleidoscope of life as it ebbs and flows through Fleet Street and the Strand Holmes had shaken off his temporary ill humour and his characteristic talk with its keen observance of detail and subtle power of inference held me amused and enthralled it was ten o'clock before we reached Baker Street again a broom was waiting at our door hmm a doctors general practitioner I perceive said Holmes not been long in practice but has had a good deal to do come to consult us I fancy lucky we came back I was sufficiently conversant with Holmes's methods to be able to follow his reasoning and to see that the nature and state of the various medical instruments in the wicker basket which hung in the lamp light inside the broom had given him the data for his swift deduction the light in our window above showed that this late visit was indeed intended for us with some curiosity as to what could have sent a brother medica to us at such an hour I followed Holmes into our sanctum a pale taper-faced man with sandy whiskers rose up from a chair by the fire as we entered his age may not have been more than three or four and thirty but his haggard expression and unhealthy hue told of a life which has sapped his strength and robbed him of his youth his manner was nervous and shy like that of a sensitive gentleman and the thin white hand which he laid on the mantelpiece as he rose was that of an artist rather than of a surgeon his dress was quiet and somber a black frock coat dark trousers and a touch of colour about his necktie good evening doctor said Holmes, cheerily I'm glad to see that you have only been waiting a very few minutes you spoke to my coachman then no, it was the candle on the side-table that told me pray resume your seat and let me know how I can serve you my name is Dr. Percy Trevelyan said opposite her and I live at 403 Brook Street are you not the author of a monograph upon obscure nervous lesions I asked his pale cheeks flushed with pleasure and hearing that his work was known to me I so seldom hear of the work that I thought it was quite dead said he my publishers gave me a most discouraging account of its sale you are yourself, I presume a medical man a retired army surgeon my own hobby has always been nervous disease I should wish to make it an absolute speciality but of course a man must take what he can get at first this however is beside the question Mr. Sherlock Holmes and I quite appreciate how valuable your time is the fact is that a very singular train of events has occurred recently at my house in Brook Street and tonight they came to such a head that I felt it was quite impossible for me to wait another hour before asking for your advice and assistance Sherlock Holmes sat down and lit his pipe you are very welcome to both said he pray let me have a detailed account of what the circumstances are which have disturbed you one or two of them are so trivial said Dr. Trevelyan that really I am almost ashamed to mention them but the matter is so inexplicable and the recent turn which it has taken is so elaborate that I should lay it all before you and use your judge what is essential and what is not I am compelled to begin with to say something of my own college career I am a London University man you know and I am sure that you will not think that I am unduly singing my own praises if I say that my student career was considered by my professors to be a very promising one after I had graduated I continued to devote myself to research occupying a minor position in King's College hospital and I was fortunate enough to excite considerable interest by my research into the pathology of catalepsy and finally to win the Bruce Pinkerton Prize and medal by the monograph on nervous lesions your friend has just alluded I should not go too far if I were to say that there was a general impression at that time that a distinguished career lay before me but the one great stumbling block lay in my want of capital as you will readily understand a specialist who aims high is compelled to start in one of a dozen streets in the Cavendish Square Quarter all of which entail enormous rents and furnishing expenses besides this preliminary outlay he must be prepared to keep himself for some years and to hire a presentable carriage and horse to do this was quite beyond my power and I could only hope that by economy I might in ten years time save enough to enable me to put up my plate suddenly however an unexpected incident opened up quite a new prospect to me this was a visit from a gentleman of the name of Blessington who was a complete stranger to me he came up to my room one morning and plunged into business in an instant you are the same Percy Travellian who has had so distinguished a career and won a great prize lately said he I bowed answer me frankly he continued for you will find it to your interest to do so you have all the cleverness which makes a successful man have you the tact I could not help smiling at the abruptness of the question I trusted I have my share I said any bad habits not drawn towards drink hey really sir I cried quite right that's all right but I was bound to ask with all these qualities why are you not in practice I shrug my shoulders come come said he in his bustling way it's the old story more in your brains and in your pocket hey what would you say if I were to start you in brook street I stared at him in astonishment oh it's for my sake not yours he cried I'll be perfectly frank with you and if it suits you it will suit me very well I have a few thousand to invest do you see and I think I'll sink them in you but why I gasped well it's just like any other speculation and safer than most what am I to do then I'll tell you I'll take the house furnish it pay the maids and run the whole place all you have to do is just to wear out your chair in the consulting room I'll let you have money and everything then you hand over to me three quarters of what you earn and you keep the other quarter for yourself this was the strange proposal Mr. Holmes with which the man blessing to approach me I won't weary you with the account of how we bargained and negotiated it ended up in my moving into the house next lady day and starting in practice on very much the same conditions as he had suggested he came himself to live with me in the character of a resident patient his heart was weak it appears and he needed constant medical supervision he turned the two best rooms of the first floor into a sitting room in a bedroom for himself he was a man of singular habits shining company and very seldom going out his life was irregular but in one respect he was regularity itself every evening at the same hour he walked into the consulting room examined the books put down five and three pence for every guinea that I'd earned and carried the rest off to the strongbox in his own room I may say with confidence that he never had occasion to regret his speculation from the first it was a success a few good cases and the reputation which I had won in the hospital brought me rapidly to the front and during the last few years I have made him a rich man so much Mr. Holmes for my past history and my relations with Mr. Blessington it only remains for me now to tell you what has occurred to bring me here tonight some weeks ago Mr. Blessington came down to me in as it seemed to me a state of considerable agitation he spoke of some burglary which he said had been committed in the West End and he appeared I remember to be quite unnecessarily excited about it declaring that a day should not pass before we should add stronger box to our windows and doors for a week he continued to be in a peculiar state of restlessness peering continually out of the windows and ceasing to take the short walks which had usually been the prelude to his dinner from his manner it struck me that he was in mortal dread of something or somebody but when I questioned him upon the point he became so offensive that I was compelled to drop the subject gradually as time passed his fears appeared to die away and he had renewed his former habits when a fresh event reduced him to the pitiful state of prostration in which he now lies what happened was this two days ago I received the letter which I now read to you neither address nor date is attached to it a Russian nobleman who is now resident in England it runs would be glad to avail himself of the professional assistance of Dr. Percy Trevelyan he has been for some years a victim to cataleptic attacks on which as is well known Dr. Trevelyan is an authority he proposes to call it about 6 tomorrow evening if Dr. Trevelyan will make it convenient to be at home this letter interested me deeply because the chief difficulty in the study of catalepsy is the rareness of the disease you may believe then that I was in my consulting room when at the appointed hour the page showed in the patient he was an elderly man thin, demure and commonplace by no means in section one forms of a Russian nobleman I was much more struck by the appearance of his companion this was a tall young man surprisingly handsome with a dark, fierce face and the limbs and chest of a Hercules he had his hand under the other's arm as they entered and helped him to a chair with the tenderness which one would hardly have expected from his appearance he will excuse my coming in doctor said he to me speaking English with a slight lisp this is my father and his health is a matter of the most overwhelming importance to me I was touched by this filial anxiety you would perhaps care to remain during the consultation said I not for the world he cried with a gesture of horror it is more painful to me than I can express my way to see my father in one of these dreadful seizures I am convinced that I should never survive it my own nervous system is an exceptionally sensitive one with your permission I will remain in the waiting room while you go into my father's case to this of course I assented and the young man withdrew the patient and I then plunged into a discussion of his case of which I took exhaustive notes he was not remarkable for intelligence and his answers were frequently obscure which I attributed to his limited acquaintance with our language suddenly however as I sat writing he ceased to give any answer at all to my enquiries and on my turning towards him I was shocked to see that he was sitting bolt upright in his chair staring at me with a perfectly blank and rigid face he was again in the grip of his mysterious malady my first feeling as I have just said was one of pity and horror my second I fear was rather one of professional satisfaction I made notes of my patient's pulse and temperature tested the rigidity of his muscles and examined his reflexes there was nothing markedly abnormal in any of these conditions which harmonise with my former experiences I had obtained good results in such cases by the inhalation of amul and the present seemed an admirable opportunity of testing its virtues the bottle was downstairs in my laboratory so leaving my patient seated in his chair I ran down to get it there was some little delay in finding it five minutes let us say and then I returned imagine my amazement to find the room empty and the patient gone of course my first act was to run into the waiting room the sun had gone also the whole door had been closed but not shut my page who admits patients is a new boy and by no means quick he waits downstairs and runs up to show patients out when I ring the consulting room bell he had heard nothing and the affair remained a complete mystery Mr. Blessington came in from his walk shortly afterwards but I did not say anything to him upon the subject for truth I have got in the way of late of holding as little communication with him as possible well I never thought that I should see anything more of the Russian and his son so you can imagine my amazement when at the very same hour this evening they both came marching into my consulting room just as they had done before I feel that I owe you a great many apologies for my abrupt departure yesterday doctor said my patient I confess that I was very much surprised at it said I well the fact is that when I recover from these attacks my mind is always very clouded as to all that has gone before I woke up in a strange room as it seemed to me and made my way out into the street in a sort of dazed way when you were absent and I said the son seeing my father pass the door of the waiting room naturally thought that the consultation had come to an end it was not until we had reached home that I began to realise the true state of affairs well said I laughing there is no harm done except that you puzzled me terribly so if you sir would kindly step into the waiting room I shall be happy to continue our consultation which is brought to so abrupt an ending for half an hour or so I discussed that old gentleman's symptoms with him and then having prescribed for him I saw him go off upon the arm of his son I have told you that Mr. Blessington generally chose this hour of the day for his exercise he came in shortly afterwards and passed upstairs an instant later I heard him running down and he burst into my consulting room like a man who is mad with panic who has been in my room he cried no one said I it's a lie he yelled come up and look I fasted over the grossness of his language as he seemed half out of his mind with fear when I went upstairs with him he pointed to several footprints upon the light carpet do you mean to say those are mine he cried they were certainly very much larger than any which he could have made and were evidently quite fresh it rained hard this afternoon as you know and my patients were the only people who called it must have been the case then that the man in the waiting room had for some unknown reason while I was busy with the other ascended to the room of my resident patient nothing had been touched or taken but there were the footprints to prove that the intrusion was an undoubted fact Mr. Blessington seemed more excited over the matter than I should have thought possible though of course it was enough to disturb anybody's peace of mind he actually sat crying in an armchair and I could hardly get him to speak coherently it was his suggestion that I should come round to you and of course I at once saw the propriety of it for certainly the incident is a very singular one though he appears to completely overrate its importance if you would only come back with me in my room you would at least be able to soothe him though I can hardly hope that you will be able to explain this remarkable occurrence Sherlock Holmes had listened to this long narrative with an intentness which showed me that his interest was keenly aroused his face was as impassive as ever but his lids had drew more heavily over his eyes and his smoke had curled up more thickly from his pipe to emphasise each curious episode of The Doctor's Tale as our visitor concluded Holmes sprang up without a word handed me my hat picked his own from the table and followed Dr Trevelyan to the door within a quarter of an hour we've been dropped at the door of the physician's residence in Brook Street one of those somber flat-faced houses which one associates with a West End practice a small page admitted us and we began at once to ascend a broad well-carpeted stair but a singular interruption brought us to a standstill the light at the top was suddenly whisked out and from the darkness came a reedy, quivering voice ah, a pistol it cried I give you my word that I'll fire if you come any nearer this is really outrageous Mr Blessington cried Dr Trevelyan oh, then if you, Doctor said the voice with a great heave of relief but those other gentlemen are they what they pretend to be we were conscious of a long scrutiny out of the darkness yes, yet it's all right said the voice at last you can come up and I'm sorry if my precautions have annoyed you he relipped the stair-gas as he spoke and we saw before us a singular-looking man whose appearance as well as his voice testified to his jangled nerves he was very fat but apparently at some time had been much fatter so the skin hung about his face in loose pouches like the cheeks of a blood-hound he was of a sickly colour and his thin sandy hair seemed to bristle up with the intensity of his emotions in his hands he held a pistol but he thrust it into his pocket as we advanced good evening Mr. Holmes said he I'm sure I'm very much obliged to you for coming round no one ever needed your advice more than I do I suppose that Doctor Trevelyan has told you of this most unwarrantable intrusion into my rooms quite so said Holmes who are these two men Mr. Blessington and why do they wish to molest you well well said the resident patient in a nervous fashion of course it is hard to say that you can hardly expect me to answer that Mr. Holmes do you mean that you don't know come in here if you please just have the kindness to step in here he led the way into his bedroom which was large and comfortably furnished you see that said he pointing to a big black box at the end of his bed I've never been a very rich man Mr. Holmes never made but one investment in my life as Dr. Trevelyan would tell you but I don't believe in bankers I would never trust a banker Mr. Holmes between ourselves what little I have is in that box so you can understand what it means to me when unknown people force themselves into my rooms Holmes looked at Blessington in his questioning way and shook his head I cannot possibly advise you if you try to deceive me said he but I've told you everything Holmes turned on his heel with a gesture of disgust good night Dr. Trevelyan said he and no advice for me cried Blessington in a breaking voice my advice to you sir is to speak the truth a minute later we were in the street and walking for home we were half way down Harley Street before I could get a word from my companion sorry to bring you out in such a fool's errand Watson he said at last it is an interesting case too at the bottom of it I can make little of it I confess well it is quite evident that there are two men more perhaps but at least two who are determined for some reason to get at this fellow Blessington I have no doubt in my mind that both and on the second occasion that young man penetrated to Blessington's room while his confederate by an ingenious device kept the doctor from interfering and the catalepsy a fraudulent imitation Watson though I should hardly dare to hint as much to our specialist it is a very easy complaint to imitate I've done it myself and then by the furious chance Blessington was out on each occasion their reason for choosing so unusual an hour for a consultation was obviously to ensure that there should be no other patient in the waiting room it just happened however that this hour coincided with Blessington's constitutional which seems to show that they were not very well acquainted with his daily routine of course if they had been merely after plunder they would have at least made some attempt to search for it besides I can read in a man's eye when it is his own skin that he's frightened for it is inconceivable that this fellow could have made two such vindictive enemies as these appear to be without knowing of it I hold it therefore to be certain that he does know who these men are and for that reasons of his own he suppresses it it is just possible that tomorrow may find him in a more communicative mood is there not one alternative I suggested grotesquely improbable no doubt but still just conceivable might the whole story of the cataleptic Russian and his son be a concoction of Dr. Trevelyans who has for his own purposes been in Blessington's rooms I saw in the gaslight that Holmes were an amused smile at this brilliant departure of mine my dear fellow said he it was one of the first solutions which occurred to me but I was soon able to corroborate the doctor's tale this young man has left prints upon the stair-carpet which made it quite superfluous for me to ask to see those which he had made in the room when I tell you that his shoes were square-toed instead of being pointed like Blessington's and were quite an inch and a third longer than the doctors you will acknowledge that there can be no doubt in his individuality but we may sleep on it now for I shall be surprised if we do not hear something further from Brookstreet in the morning Sherlock Holmes' prophecy was soon fulfilled and in a dramatic fashion at half-past seven next morning in the first glimmer of daylight I found him standing by my bedside in his dressing-gown there is a broom waiting for us Watson said he what's the matter then the Brookstreet business any fresh news tragic but ambiguous said he pulling up the blind look at this a sheet from a notebook with for God's sake come once P.T. scrawled upon it in pencil our friend the doctor was hard put to it when he wrote this come along my dear fellow for it's an urgent call in a quarter of an hour or so back at the physician's house he came running out to meet us with a face of horror oh such a business he cried with his hands to his temples what then Blessington has committed suicide Holmes whistled yes he hanged himself during the night we had entered and the doctor had proceeded us into what was evidently his waiting-room really hardly know what I'm doing he cried the police are already upstairs it has shaken me most dreadfully when did you find it out he has a cup of tea taken into him early every morning when the maid entered about seven there the unfortunate fellow was hanging in the middle of the room he had tied the cord to the hook on which the heavy lamp used to hang and he had jumped off from the top of the very box that he showed us yesterday Holmes stood for a moment in deep thought with your permission said he at last I should like to go upstairs and look into the matter we both ascended followed by the doctor it was a dreadful sight which met us as we entered the bedroom door I spoken of the impression of flabbiness which this man Blessington conveyed as he dangled from the hook it was exaggerated and intensified until he was scarce human in his appearance he looked like a plucked chickens making the rest of him seem the more obese and unnatural by the contrast he was clad only in his long nightdress and his swollen ankles and ungainly feet protruded starkly from beneath it beside him stood a smart looking police inspector who was taking notes in a pocketbook ah Mr. Holmes said he heartily as my friend entered I am delighted to see you good morning Lana Mr. Holmes you won't think me an intruder I am sure have you heard of the events which led up to this affair yes I've heard something of them have you formed any opinion as far as I can see the man has been driven out of his senses by fright the bed has been well slept in you see there's his impression deep enough it's about five in the morning you know that suicides are most common that would be about his time for hanging himself it seems to have been a very deliberate affair I should say that he's been dead about three hours judging by the rigidity of the muscles said I noticed anything peculiar about the room asked Holmes found a screwdriver and some screws on the wash hand stand seems to have smoked heavily during the night too here are four cigar ends that I picked out of the fireplace hmm said Holmes have you got his cigar holder no I have seen none his cigar case then yes it was in his coat pocket Holmes opened it and smelled the single cigar which it contained oh this is a Havana and these others are cigars of the peculiar sort which are imported by the Dutch from their East India colonies they are unusually wrapped in straw you know and are thinner for their length than any other brand he picked up the four ends and examined them with his pocket lens two of these have been smoked from a holder and two without said he two have been cut by a not very sharp knife and two have had the ends bitten off by a set of excellent teeth this is no suicide Mr. Lanner it is a very deeply planned and cold-blooded murder impossible cried the inspector and why? why should anyone murder a man in so clumsy a fashion as by hanging him that is what we have to find out how could they get in through the front door it was barred in the morning then it was barred after them how do you know I saw their traces excuse me a moment and I may be able to give you some further information about it he went over to the door and turning the lock he examined it in his methodical way then he took out the key which was on the inside and inspected that also the bed, the carpet, the chairs, the mantelpiece the dead body and the rope were each in turn examined until at last he professed himself satisfied and with my aid and that of the inspector cut down the wretched object and laid it reverently under a sheet how about this rope he asked it is cut off this said Dr Trevely and drawing a large coil from under the bed he was morbidly nervous of fire and always kept his beside him so that he might escape by the window in case the stairs were burning that must have saved them trouble said Holmes thoughtfully yes the actual facts are very plain and I should be surprised if by the afternoon I will give you the reasons for them as well I will take this photograph of Blessington which I see upon the mantelpiece and it may help me in my inquiries thought you have told us nothing cried the doctor oh there can be no doubt as to the sequence of events said Holmes there were three of them in it the young man, the old man and a third to whose identity I have no clue the first two I need hardly remark are the same who masqueraded as the Russian count and his son so we can give a very full description of them they were admitted by confederate inside the house if I might offer you a word of advice inspector it would be to arrest the page who as I understand has only recently come into your service doctor the young imp cannot be found said Dr Trevelyan the maid and the cook have just been searching for him Holmes shrugged his shoulders he's played a not an important part in this drama said he the three men having ascended the stairs which they did on tiptoe the elder man first the younger man second and the unknown man in the rear my dear Holmes I ejaculated oh there could be no question as to the superimposing of the footmarks I had the advantage of learning which was which last night they ascended then to Mr Bessington's room the door of which they found to be locked with the help of a wire however they forced round the key even without the lens you will perceive by the scratches on this ward where the pressure was applied on entering the room their first proceeding must have been to gag Mr Bessington he may have been asleep or he may have been so paralyzed with terror as to have been unable to cry out these walls are thick and it is conceivable that his shriek if he had time to utter one was unheard having secured him it is evident to me that a consultation of some sort was held probably it was something in the nature of a judicial proceeding it must have lasted for some time for it was then that these cigars were smoked the older man sat in that wicker chair it was he who used the cigar holder the younger man sat over yonder he knocked his ash off against the chest of drawers the third fellow paced up and down Bessington I think sat upright in the bed but of that I cannot be absolutely certain well it ended by their taking Bessington and hanging him the matter was so prearranged that it is my belief that they brought with them some sort of block or pulley which might serve as a gallows that screwdriver and those screws were as I conceive for fixing it up seeing the hook however they naturally saved themselves the trouble having finished their work they made off and the door was barred behind them by their confederate we had all listened with the deepest interest to this sketch of the night's doings which Holmes had deduced from signs so subtle and minute that even when he had pointed them out to us we could scarcely follow him in his reasoning the inspector hurried away on the instance to make inquiries about the page while Holmes and I returned to Baker Street for breakfast I'll be back by three said he when we had finished our meal both the inspector and the doctor will meet me here at that hour and I hope by that time to have cleared up any little obscurity which the case may still present our visitors arrived at the appointed time but it was a quarter to four before my friend put in an appearance from his expression as he entered however I could see that all had gone well with him any news inspector we have got the boy sir excellent and I have got the men you have got them we cried all three well at least I have got their identity this so-called blessing is as I expected well known at her quarters and so are his assailants the names are Biddle, Hayward and Moffat the Worthington bank gang cried the inspector precisely said Holmes then Blessington must have been Sutton exactly said Holmes why that makes it as clear as crystal said the inspector but Trevelyan and I looked at each other in bewilderment you must surely remember the great Worthington bank business said Holmes five men were in it these four and a fifth called Cartwright Tobin the caretaker was murdered and the thieves got away with seven thousand pounds this was in 1875 they were all five arrested but the evidence against them was by no means conclusive this Blessington or Sutton who was the worst of the gang turned in former on his evidence Cartwright was hanged and the other three got fifteen years of peace when they got out the other day which was some years before their full term they set themselves as you perceive to hunt down the traitor and to avenge the death of their comrade upon him twice they tried to get at him and failed a third time you see it came off is there anything further which I can explain Dr. Trevelyan I think you have made it all remarkably clear said the doctor no doubt the day on which he was perturbed was the day when he had seen of their release in the newspapers quite so his talk about a burglary was the merest blind but why could he not tell you this well my dear sir knowing the vindictive character of his old associates he was trying to hide his own identity from everybody as long as he could his secret was a shameful one and he could not bring himself to divulge it however wretched he was he was still living under the shield of British law and I have no doubt inspector that you will see that though that shield may fail to guard the sword of justice is still there to avenge such were the singular circumstances in connection with the resident patient and the brook street doctor from that night nothing has been seen of the three murderers by the police and it is surmised at Scotland Yard that they were among the passengers of the ill-fated steamer Nora Carina which was lost some years ago with all hands upon the Portuguese coast some leagues to the north of Porto the proceedings against the page broke down the people want of evidence and the brook street mystery as it was called has never until now been fully dealt with in any public print end of the resident patient by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle recording by Peter Tomlinson