09 - Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

Dive into the riveting world of the legendary detective, Sherlock Holmes, in this second compilation of short stories penned by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Explore 12 enthralling adventures, serialized in The Strand from December 1892 to December 1893, each masterfully illustrated by Sidney Paget. Join Holmes and his faithful companion, Dr. Watson, as they unravel the mysteries that baffle Londons finest. - Summary by David Clarke

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:01):
Adventure nine in the Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes by Sir
Arthur Conan Doyle. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain.
Adventure nine the Greek Interpreter. During my long and intimate
acquaintance with mister Sherlock Holmes, I had never heard him
refer to his relations, and hardly ever to his own

(00:23):
early life. This reticence, upon his part had increased the
somewhat inhuman effect which he produced upon me, until sometimes
I found myself regarding him as an isolated phenomenon, a
brain without a heart, as deficient in human sympathy as
he was pre eminent in intelligence. His aversion to women

(00:43):
and his disinclination to form new friendships were both typical
of his unemotional character, but not more so than his
complete suppression of every reference to his own people. I
had come to believe that he was an orphan with
no relatives living. But one day, to my very great surprise,
he began to talk to me about his brother. It

(01:04):
was after tea on a summer evening, and the conversation,
which had roamed in a desultory, spasmodic fashion from golf
clubs to the causes of the change in the obliquity
of the ecliptic came round at last to the question
of atavism and hereditary aptitudes. The point under discussion was
how far any singular gift in an individual was due

(01:27):
to his ancestry, and how far to his own early training.
In your own case, said I. From all that you've
told me, it seems obvious that your faculty of observation
and your peculiar facility for deduction are due to your
own systematic training. To some extent, he answered thoughtfully, my

(01:48):
ancestors were country squires, who appear to have led much
the same life as is natural to their class. But nonetheless,
my turn that way is in my veins, and may
have come with my grandmother, who was the sister of Vernay,
the French artist. Art in the blood is liable to
take the strangest forms. But how do you know that

(02:10):
its hereditary? Because my brother Mycroft possesses it in a
larger degree than I do. This was news to me. Indeed,
if there were another man with such singular powers in England,
how was it that neither police nor public had heard
of him? I put the question with a hint that

(02:30):
it was my companion's modesty which made him acknowledge his
brother as his superior. Holmes laughed at my suggestion. My
dear Watson said he I cannot agree with those who
rank modesty among the virtues. To the logician, all things
should be seen exactly as they are, and to underestimate

(02:51):
one's self is as much a departure from truth as
to exaggerate one's own powers. When I say, therefore, that
Mycroft has been to powers of observation than I, you
may take it that I am speaking the exact and
literal truth. Is he your junior seven years my senior?

(03:11):
How comes it that he is unknown? Oh? He is
very well known in his own circle. Where then well
in the Diogenes Club, for example? I had never heard
of the institution, and my face must have proclaimed as much.
For Sherlock Holmes pulled out his watch. The Diogenes Club

(03:32):
is the queerest club in London, and Microft one of
the queerest men. He's always there from quarter to five
to twenty to eight. It's six now, So if you
care for a stroll this beautiful evening, I shall be
very happy to introduce you to two curiosities. Five minutes
later we were in the street walking towards Regent's Circus.

(03:55):
You wonder, said my companion, why it is that Mycroft
does not use his powers for detective work. He is
incapable of it. But I thought you said. I said
that he was my superior in observation and deduction. If
the art of the detective began and ended in reasoning
from an armchair, my brother would be the greatest criminal

(04:18):
agent that ever lived. But he has no ambition and
no energy. He will not even go out of his
way to verify his own solutions, and would rather be
considered wrong than take the trouble to prove himself right.
Again and again. I have taken a problem to him,
and have received an explanation which has afterwards proved to

(04:38):
be the correct one. And yet he was absolutely incapable
of working out the practical points which must be gone
into before a case could be laid before a judge
or jury. It is not his profession, then, by no means.
What is to me a means of livelihood is to
him the merest hobby of a dilettante. He has an

(05:01):
extraordinary faculty for figures and audits the books. In some
of the Government departments, Microft lodges in Pall Mall, and
he walks round the corner into Whitehall every morning and
back every evening from year's end to year's end. He
takes no other exercise and is seen nowhere else except

(05:21):
only in the Diogenes Club, which is just opposite his rooms.
I cannot recall the name, very likely not. There are
many men in London, you know who, some from shyness,
some from misanthropy, have no wish for the company of
their fellows. Yet they are not averse to comfortable chairs

(05:43):
and the latest periodicals. It is for the convenience of
these that the Diogenes Club was started, and it now
contains the most unsociable and unclubbable men in town. No
member is permitted to take the least notice of any
other one save in the strain room. No talking ears
under any circumstances allowed, and three offenses, if brought to

(06:06):
the notice of the committee, rendered the talker liable to expulsion.
My brother was one of the founders, and I had
myself found it a very soothing atmosphere. We had reached
pal Marle as we talked, and were walking down it
from the Saint James's end. Sherlock Holmes stopped at a
door some little distance from the Carlton, and cautioning me

(06:30):
not to speak, he led the way into the hall.
Through the glass paneling, I caught a glimpse of a
large and luxurious room in which a considerable number of
men were sitting about and reading papers, each in his
own little nook. Holmes showed me into a small chamber
which looked out into pall mall, and then leaving me

(06:51):
for a minute, he came back with a companion whom
I knew could only be his brother, Mycroft. Holmes was
a much larger and stouter man than Sherlock. His body
was absolutely corpulent, but his face, though massive, had preserved
something of the sharpness of expression which was so remarkable
in that of his brother. His eyes, which were of

(07:14):
a peculiarly light, watery gray, seemed to have always retain
that far away, introspective look which I had only observed
in Sherlock's when he was exerting his full powers. I
am glad to meet you, sir, said he putting out
a broad, fat hand like the flipper of a seal.
I hear of Sherlock everywhere since you became his chronicler.

(07:37):
By the way, Sherlock, I expected to see you round
last week to consult me over that manor house case.
I thought you might be a little out of your depth.
No I solved it, said my friend, smiling. It was Adams.
Of course, Yes, it was Adam's. I was sure of
it from the first. The two sat down together in

(07:59):
the window of the club. To anyone who wishes to
study mankind, this is the spot, said Mycroft. Look at
the magnificent types. Look at those two men who are
coming towards us, for example, the billiard marker and the
other precisely, what do you make of the other? The

(08:19):
two men had stopped opposite the window. Some chalk marks
over the waistcoat pocket were the only signs of billiards
which I could see in one of them. The other
was a very small, dark fellow, with his hat pushed
back and several packages under his arm. An old soldier,
I perceive, said Sherlock, and very recently discharged, remarked the

(08:42):
brother served in India, I see. And a non commissioned
officer Royal Artillery, I fancy, said Sherlock, And a widower,
but with a child. Children. My dear boy, children come,
said I, laughing. This is a little too much, surely,

(09:03):
answered Holmes. It is not hard to say that a
man with that bearing expression of authority and sun baked
skin is a soldier, is more than a private, and
is not long from India. That he has not left
the service long is shown by his still wearing his
ammunition boots as they are called observed microft. He had

(09:23):
not the cavalry stride, yet he wore his hat on
one side, as is shown by the lighter skin of
that side of his brow. His weight is against his
being a sapper. He is in the artillery, then, of
course his complete mourning shows that he has lost some
one very dear. The fact that he is doing his
own shopping looks as though it were his wife. He's

(09:46):
been buying things for children you perceive as a rattle,
which shows that one of them is very young. The
wife probably died in child bed. The fact that he
has a picture book under his arm shows that there
is another child to be thought of. I began to
understand what my friend meant when he said that his
brother possessed even keener faculties that he did himself. He

(10:09):
glanced across at me and smiled. Microft took snuff from
a tortoise shell box and brushed away the wondering grains
from his coat front with a large red silk handkerchief.
By the way, Sherlock said he, I have had something
quite after your own heart, a most singular problem submitted
to my judgment. I really had not the energy to

(10:32):
follow it up, save in a very incomplete fashion, but
it gave me a basis for some pleasing speculation. If
you would care to hear the facts, my dear Microft,
I should be delighted. The brother scribbled a note upon
a leaf of his pocket book, and ringing the bell,
he handed it to the waiter. I have asked mister

(10:53):
Maelus to step across, said he Me. Lodges on the
floor above me, and I have some slight acquaintance with him,
which led him to come to me in his perplexity.
Mister Maelas is a Greek by extraction, as I understand,
and he is a remarkable linguist. He earns his living
partly as interpreter in the law courts, and partly by

(11:14):
acting as guide to any wealthy orientals who may visit
the Northumberland Avenue hotels. I think I will leave him
to tell his very remarkable experience in his own fashion.
A few minutes later we were joined by a short,
stout man, whose olive face and cold black hair proclaimed
his Southern origin. Though his speech was that of an

(11:36):
educated Englishman. He shook hands eagerly with Sherlock Holmes, and
his dark eyes sparkled with pleasure when he understood that
the specialist was anxious to hear his story. I do
not believe that the police credit me on my word.
I do not, said he in a wailing voice, just
because they have never heard of it before. They think

(11:58):
that such a thing cannot be. But I know that
I shall never be easy in my mind until I
know what has become of my poor man with the
sticking plaster upon his face. I am all attention, said
Sherlock Holmes. This is Wednesday evening, said mister Maelis. Well,
then it was Monday night, only two days ago. You

(12:20):
understand that all this happened. I am an interpreter, as
perhaps my neighbor there has told you, I interpret all languages,
all nearly all, but as I am a Greek by birth,
and with a Grecian name. It is with that particular
tongue that I am principally associated. For many years I
have been the chief Greek interpreter in London, and my

(12:42):
name is very well known in the hotels. It happens
not unfrequently that I am sent for at strange hours
by foreigners who get into difficulties, or by travelers who
arrive late and wish my services. I was not surprised
therefore on Monday night when a mister Latimer, a very
fashionably dressed young man, came up to my rooms and

(13:04):
asked me to accompany him in a cab which was
waiting at the door. A Greek friend had come to
see him upon business, he said, and as he could
speak nothing but his own tongue, the services of an
interpreter were indispensable. He gave me to understand that his
house was some little distance off in Kensington, and he

(13:26):
seemed to be in a great hurry, bustling me rapidly
into the cab when we had descended to the street.
I say, into the cab, but I soon became doubtful
as to whether it was not a carriage in which
I found myself. It was certainly more roomy than the
ordinary four wheel disgrace to London, and the fittings, though fraid,

(13:47):
were of rich quality. Mister Latimer seated himself opposite to me,
and we started off through Charing Cross and up the
Shaftesbury Avenue. We had come out upon Oxford Street, and
I had ventured some remo as to this being a
roundabout way to Kensington, when my words were arrested by
the extraordinary conduct of my companion. He began by drawing

(14:10):
a most formidable looking bludgeon loaded with lead from his pocket,
and switching it backward and forward several times, as if
to test its weight and strength. Then he placed it,
without a word, upon the seat beside him. Having done this,
he drew up the windows on each side, and I found,
to my astonishment that they were covered with paper so

(14:33):
as to prevent my seeing through them. I am sorry
to cut off your view, mister Maelis, said he. The
fact is that I have no intention that you should
see what the place is to which we are driving.
It might possibly be inconvenient to me if you could
find your way there again. As you can imagine, I

(14:53):
was utterly taken aback by such an address. My companion
was a powerful, broad shouldered young fellow, and apart from
the weapon, I should not have had the slightest chance
in a struggle with him. This is a very extraordinary conduct,
mister Latimer, I stammered. You must be aware that what

(15:13):
you are doing is quite illegal. It is something of
a liberty, no doubt, said he, but will make it
up to you. I must warn you, however, mister Melus,
that if at any time to night you attempt to
raise an alarm or do anything which is against my interests,
you will find it a very serious thing. I beg
you to remember that no one knows where you are,

(15:36):
and that whether you are in this carriage or in
my house, you are equally in my power. His words
were quiet, but he had a rasping way of saying them,
which was very menacing. I sat in silence, wondering what
on earth could be his reason for kidnapping me in
this extraordinary fashion. Whatever it might be, it was perfectly

(15:58):
clear that there was no possible you semi resisting, and
that I could only wait to see what might befall.
For nearly two hours we drove without my having the
least clue as to where we were going. Sometimes the
rattle of the stones told of a paved causeway, and
that others our smooth, silent course suggested usfalt. But save

(16:20):
by this variation in sound, there was nothing at all
which could, in the remotest way help me to form
a guess as to where we were. The paper over
each window was impenetrable to light, and a blue curtain
was drawn across the glass work in front. It was
a quarter past seven when we left Pall Mall, and

(16:40):
my watch showed me that it was ten minutes to
nine when we at last came to a standstill. My
companion let down the window, and I caught a glimpse
of a low arched doorway with a lamp burning above it.
As I was hurried from the carriage, it swung open,
and I found myself inside the house, with a vague

(17:01):
impression of a lawn and trees on each side of me.
As I entered whether these were private grounds, however, or
bona fide a country was more than I could possibly
venture to say. There was a colored gas lamp inside,
which was turned so low that I could see little
say that the hall was of some size and hung

(17:22):
with pictures. In the dim light, I could make out
that the person who had opened the door was a small,
mean looking middle aged man with rounded shoulders. As he
turned towards us, the glint of the light showed me
that he was wearing glasses. Is this mister Maelis, Harold
said he yes, well done, well done. No ill will

(17:46):
mister Maelis, I hope, but we could not get on
without you. If you deal fair with us, you'll not
regret it. But if you try any tricks, God help you.
He spoke in a nervous, jerky fashion, and with little
giggling laughs in between, but somehow he impressed me with
fear more than the other. What do you want with me?

(18:06):
I asked, only to ask a few questions of a
Greek gentleman who is visiting us, and to let us
have the answers. But say no more than you are
told to say. Or here came the nervous giggle again.
You had better never have been born. As he spoke,
he opened a door and showed the way into a
room which appeared to be very richly furnished, But again

(18:29):
the only light was afforded by a single lamp half
turned down. The chamber was certainly large, and the way
which my feet sank into the carpet as I stepped
across it told me of its richness. I caught glimpses
of velvet chairs, a high white marble mantel piece, and
what seemed to be a suit of Japanese armor. At

(18:49):
one side of it. There was a chair just under
the lamp, and the elderly man motioned that I should
sit in it. The younger had left us, but he
suddenly returned through another door or leading with him a
gentleman clad in some sort of loose dressing gown, who
moved slowly towards us. As he came into the circle
of dim light which enables me to see him more clearly,

(19:13):
I was thrilled with horror at his appearance. He was
deadly pale and terribly emaciated, with the protruding brilliant eyes
of a man whose spirit was greater than his strength.
But what shocked me more than any signs of physical
weakness was that his face was grotesquely crisscrossed with sticking plaster,

(19:34):
and that one large pad of it was fastened over
his mouth. Have you the slate. Harold cried the older man,
as this strange being fell rather than sat down into
a chair. Ah, his hands loose. Now, then give him
the pencil. You are to ask the questions, mister Melice,
and he will write the answers. Ask him, first of

(19:57):
all whether he is prepared to sign the papers. The
man's eyes flashed fire. Never he wrote in Greek upon
the slate on no condition, I asked, at the bidding
of our tyrant, only if I see her married in
my presence by a Greek priest whom I know. The

(20:18):
man giggled in his venomous way. You know what awaits you,
then I care nothing for myself. These are samples of
the questions and answers which made up our strange, half spoken,
half written conversation. Again and again I had to ask
him whether he would give in and sign the documents.

(20:38):
Again and again I had the same indignant reply. But
soon a happy thought came to me. I took to
adding on little sentences of my own to each question,
innocent ones, at first to test whether either of our
companions knew anything of the matter. And then, as I
found that they showed no signs, I played a more

(21:00):
dangerous game. Our conversation ran something like this. You can
do no good by this obstinacy. Who are you? I
care not? I am a stranger in London. Your fate
will be upon your own head. How long have you
been here? Let it be so three weeks? The property

(21:21):
can never be yours. What ails you? It shall not
go to villains. They are starving me. You shall go free.
If you sign what house is this? I will never sign.
I do not know you are not doing her any service.
What is your name? Let me hear her say so

(21:42):
Crati days you shall see her? If you sign where
are you from? Then I shall never see her? Athens
another five minutes, mister Holmes and I should have wormed
out the whole story under their very noses. My very
next question might have cleared the matter up. But at
that instant the door opened and a woman stepped into

(22:06):
the room. I could not see her clearly enough to
know more than that she was tall and graceful, with
black hair, and clad in some sort of loose white gown.
Harold said she speaking English with a broken accent. I
could not stay away longer. It is so lonely up
there with only oh my God, it is Paul. These

(22:29):
last words were in Greek, and at the same instant
the man, with a convulsive effort, tore the plaster from
his lips, and, screaming out soffhie soffie, rushed into the
woman's arms. Their embrace was but for an instant, however,
for the younger man seized the woman and pushed her
out of the room, while the elder easily overpowered his

(22:51):
emaciated victim and dragged him away through the other door.
For a moment, I was left alone in the room,
and I sprang to my feet with some vague idea
that I might in some way get a clue to
what this house was in which I found myself. Fortunately, however,
I took no steps. For looking up, I saw that

(23:11):
the older man was standing in the doorway with his
eyes fixed upon me. That will do, mister Maelis, said
he you perceive that we have taken you into our confidence,
O as some very private business. We should not have
troubled you. Only that our friend, who speaks Greek and
who began these negotiations, has been forced to return to

(23:33):
the east. It was quite necessary for us to find
some one to take his place. And we were fortunate
in hearing of your powers. I bowed. There are five
sovereigns here, said he, walking up to me, which will
I hope be a sufficient fee. But remember, he added,
tapping me lightly on the chest and giggling, if you

(23:56):
speak to a human soul about this one human soul, mind, well,
may God have mercy upon your soul. I cannot tell
you the loathing and horror with which this insignificant looking
man inspired me. I could see him better now, as
the lamp light shone upon him. His features were piquey

(24:16):
and sallow, and his little pointed beard was thready and
ill nourished. He pushed his face forward as he spoke,
and his lips and eyelids were continually twitching, like a
man with Saint Vitus's dance. I could not help thinking
that his strange, catchy little laugh was also a symptom
of some nervous malady. The terror of his face lay

(24:40):
in his eyes, however, steel gray and glistening coldly, with
a malignant, inexorable cruelty in their depths. We shall know
if you speak of this, said he. We have our
own means of information. Now you'll find the carriage waiting,
and my friend will see you on your way. I

(25:00):
was hurried through the hall and into the vehicle, again,
obtaining that momentary glimpse of trees and a garden. Mister
Latimer followed closely at my heels and took his place
opposite to me, without a word. In silence. We again
drove for an interminable distance, with the windows raised, until
at last, just after midnight, the carriage pulled up. You

(25:24):
will get down here, mister Malis, said my companion. I
am sorry to leave you so far from your house,
but there is no alternative. Any attempt upon your part
to follow the carriage can only end in injury to yourself.
He opened the door as he spoke, and I had
hardly time to spring out when the coachman lashed the
horse and the carriage rattled away. I looked around me

(25:48):
in astonishment. I was on some sort of heathy common
mottled over with dark clumps of furze bushes. Far away
stretched a line of houses with a light here and
there in the upper windows. On the other side, I
saw the red signal lamps of a railway. The carriage
which had brought me was already out of sight. I

(26:10):
stood gazing round and wondering where on earth I might
be when I saw some one coming towards me in
the darkness. As he came up to me, I made
out that he was a railway porter. Can you tell
me what place this is? I asked? Want's worth? Common?
Said he can I get a train into town if

(26:30):
you walk on a mile or so to Clapham Junction,
said he, you'll just be in time for the last
of Victoria. So that was the end of my adventure.
Mister Holmes, I do not know where I was, nor
whom I spoke with, nor anything save what I have
told you, But I know that there is foul play
going on, and I want to help that unhappy man

(26:52):
if I can. I told the whole story to mister
Microft Holmes next morning, and subsequently to the police. We
all sat in silence for some little time after listening
to this extraordinary narrative. Then Sherlock looked across at his
brother any steps, he asked Microft picked up the daily News,

(27:14):
which was lying on the side table. Anybody is supplying
any information to the whereabouts of a Greek gentleman named
Paul Crataeides from Athens who is unable to speak English
will be rewarded A similar reward paid to any one
giving information about a Greek lady whose first name is
Sophie x two four seven three that was in all

(27:37):
the dailies. No answer, how about the Greek legation I
have inquired? They know nothing. A wire to the head
of the Athens police. Then Sherlock has all the energy
of the family, said Microft, turning to me, Well, you
take the case up by all means and let me
know if you do any good. Certainly, answered my friend,

(28:01):
rising from his chair. I'll let you know. And mister
Melas also in the meantime, mister Maelus, I should certainly
be on my guard if I were you, for of
course they must know through these advertisements that you have
betrayed them. As we walked home together, Holmes stopped at
a telegraph office and sent off several wires. You see, Watson,

(28:24):
he remarked, Our evening has been, by no means wasted.
Some of my most interesting cases have come to me
in this way through mycroft. The problem which we have
just listened to, although it can admit of but one explanation,
has still some distinguishing features you have hopes of solving
it well, knowing as much as we do it will

(28:47):
be singular. Indeed, if we fail to discover the rest,
you must yourself have formed some theory which will explain
the facts to which we have listened in a vague way. Yes,
what was your eye? Then? It seemed to me to
be obvious that this Greek girl had been carried off
by the young englishman named Harold Latimer, carried off from

(29:09):
where Athens? Perhaps, Sherlock Holmes shook his head. This young
man could not talk a word of Greek. The lady
could talk English fairly well, inference that she had been
in England some little time, but he had not been
in Greece. Well, then we will presume that she had
come on a visit to England, and that this Harold

(29:31):
had persuaded her to fly with him. That is more
probable then the brother, for that I fancy must be
the relationship comes over from Greece to inter fear. He
imprudently puts himself into the power of the young man
and his older associate. They seize him and use violence
towards him in order to make him sign some papers

(29:52):
to make over the girl's fortune, of which he may
be trustee to them. This he refuses to do. In
order to negotiate with him, they have to get an interpreter,
and they pitch upon this mister Maelis, having used some
other one before. The girl is not told of the
arrival of her brother, and finds it out by the
merest accident. Excellent Watson cried Holmes, I really fancy that

(30:17):
you are not far from the truth. You see that
we hold all the cards, and we have only to
fear some sudden act of violence on their part. If
they give us time, we must have them. How can
we find where this house lies? Well? If our conjecture
is correct, and the girl's name is or was Sophie Cartrides,

(30:40):
we should have no difficulty in tracing her. That must
be our main hope. For the brother is of course
a complete stranger. It is clear that some time has
elapsed since this Harald established these relations with the girl,
some weeks at any rate, since the brother in Greece
has had time to hear of it and come across.

(31:00):
If they have been living in the same place during
this time, it is probable that we shall have some
answer to Microft's advertisement. We had reached our house in
Baker Street while we had been talking. Holmes ascended the
stair first, and as he opened the door of our room,
he gave a start of surprise, looking over his shoulder.

(31:20):
I was equally astonished. His brother, Microft, was sitting smoking
in the arm chair. Come in, Sherlock, Come in, sir,
said he blandly, smiling at our surprised faces. You don't
expect such energy from me, do you, Sherlock? But somehow
this case attracts me. How did you get here? I

(31:41):
passed you in a hansom? There has been some new development.
I had an answer to my advertisement. Ah, yes, it
came within a few minutes of your leaving. And to
what effect? Microft Holmes took out a sheet of paper.
Here it is is, said he written with a j

(32:02):
pen on royal cream paper by a middle aged man
with a weak constitution, Sir, he says, in answer to
your advertisement of to day's date, I beg to inform
you that I know the young lady in question very well.
If you should care to call upon me, I could
give you some particulars as to her painful history. She

(32:24):
is living at present at the myrtles Beckenham, yours faithfully, J. Davenport,
he writes from Lower Brixton, said Microft, Holmes, do you
not think that we might drive to him now, Sherlock,
and learn these particulars? My dear Microft, the brother's life
is more valuable than the sister's story. I think we

(32:47):
should call at Scotland Yard for Inspector Gregson and go
straight out to Beckenham. We know that a man is
being done to death, and every hour may be vital.
Better pick up mister Maelis on our way. I suggest
we may need an interpreter. Excellent, said Sherlock Holmes. Send
the boy for a four wheeler and we shall be

(33:08):
off at once. He opened the table drawer as he spoke,
and I noticed that he slipped his revolver into his pocket. Yes,
said he, in answer to my glance, I should say,
from what we have heard, that we are dealing with
a particularly dangerous gang. It was almost dark before we
found ourselves in Pall Mall at the rooms of mister Maelis.

(33:30):
A gentleman had just called for him and he was gone.
Can you tell me where? Asked Mycroft Holmes. I don't
know sir, answered the woman who had opened the door.
I only know that he drove away with a gentleman
in a carriage. Did the gentleman give a name, now, sir?
He wasn't a tall, handsome, dark young man. Oh no, sir,

(33:53):
he was a little gentleman with glasses, thin in the face,
but very pleasant in his ways, for he was laughing
all the time that he was talking. Come along, cried
Sherlock Holmes. Abruptly. This grows serious, he observed, as we
drove to Scotland Yard. These men have got hold of
mail us again. He is a man of no physical courage,

(34:14):
As they are well aware from their experience the other night,
this villain was able to terrorize him the instant that
he got into his presence. No doubt they want his
professional services, but having used him, they may be inclined
to punish him for what they were regard as his treachery.
Our hope was that by taking the train we might

(34:34):
get to Beckenham as soon or sooner than the carriage.
On reaching Scotland Yard, however, it was more than an
hour before we could get Inspector Gregson and comply with
the legal formalities which would enable us to enter the house.
It was a quarter to ten before we reached London Bridge,
and half passed before the four of us alighted on
the Beckenham platform. A drive of half a mile brought

(34:58):
us to the Myrtles, a large dark house standing back
from the road in its own grounds. Here we dismissed
our cab and made our way up the drive together.
The windows are all dark, remarked the inspector. Bahow seems deserted.
Our birds are flown and the nest empty, said Holmes.

(35:19):
Why do you say so? A carriage heavily loaded with
luggage has passed out during the last hour, The inspector laughed.
I saw the wheel tracks in the light of the
gate lamp, But where does the luggage come in? You
may have observed the same wheel tracks going the other way,
but the outward bound ones were very much deeper, so

(35:40):
much so that we can say for a certainty that
there was a very considerable weight on the carriage. You
get a trifle beyond me there, said the inspector, shrugging
his shoulder. It will not be an easy door to force,
but we will try. If we cannot make some one
near us, He hammered loudly at the knocker and pulled
at the bell, but without any success. Holmes had slipped away,

(36:03):
but he came back in a few minutes. I have
a window open, said he. It is a mercy that
you're on the side of the force and not against it,
mister Elmes, remarked the inspector, as he noted the clever
way in which my friend had forced back the catch. Well,
I think that under the circumstances we may enter with
our an invitation. One after the other, we made our

(36:26):
way into a large apartment, which was evidently that in
which mister Milis had found himself. The inspector had lit
his lantern, and by its light we could see the
two doors, the curtain, the lamp, and the suit of
Japanese mail as he had described them. On the table
lay two glasses, an empty brandy bottle, and the remains

(36:47):
of a meal. What is that? Asked Holmes. Suddenly we
all stood still and listened. A low, moaning sound was
coming from somewhere over our heads. Holmes rushed to the
door and out into the hall. The dismal noise came
from upstairs. He dashed up. The inspector and I at

(37:07):
his heels, while his brother Mycroft followed as quickly as
his great bulk would permit. Three doors faced up upon
the second floor, and it was from the central of
these that the sinister sounds were issuing, sinking sometimes into
a dull mumble, and rising again into a shrill whine.
It was locked, but the key had been left on

(37:28):
the outside. Holmes flung open the door and rushed in,
but he was out again in an instant, with his
hand to his throat. It's charcoal, he cried, give it time,
it'll clear. Peering in, we could see that the only
light in the room came from a dull blue flame,
which flickered from a small brass tripod in the center.

(37:50):
It threw a livid, unnatural circle upon the floor, while
in the shadows beyond we saw the vague loom of
two figures which crouched against the wall. From the open door,
there reeked a horrible, poisonous exhalation, which set us gasping
and coughing. Holmes rushed to the top of the stairs
to draw in the fresh air, and then dashing into

(38:12):
the room, he threw up the window and hurled the
brazen tripod out into the garden. We can enter in
a minute, he gasped, darting out again. Where is a candle?
I doubt if we could strike a match in that atmosphere.
Hold the light at the door, and we shall get
them out my croft. Now, with a rush, we got
to the poisoned men and dragged them out into the

(38:34):
well lit hall. Both of them were blue lipped and insensible,
with swollen, congested faces and protruding eyes. Indeed, so distorted
were their features, that, save for his black beard and
stout figure, we might have failed to recognize in one
of them, the Greek interpreter who had parted from us
only a few hours before at the Diogenes Club. His

(38:57):
hands and feet were securely strapped together, and he bore
over one eye the marks of a violent blow. The other,
who was secured in a similar fashion, was a tall
man in the last stage of emaciation, with several strips
of sticking plaster arranged in a grotesque pattern over his face.
He had ceased to moan as we laid him down,

(39:17):
and a glance showed me that for him at least
our aid had come too late. Mister Meelis, however, still
lived and in less than an hour, with the aid
of ammonia and brandy, I had the satisfaction of seeing
him open his eyes, and of knowing that my hand
had drawn him back from that dark valley in which
all paths meet. It was a simple story which we

(39:40):
had to tell, and one which did not but confirm
our own deductions. His visitor, on entering his rooms, had
drawn a life preserver from his sleeve, and had so
impressed him with the fear of instant and inevitable death,
that he had kidnapped him for the second time. Indeed,
it was almost mesmeric the affair which this giggling Ruffian

(40:01):
had produced upon the unfortunate linguist, for he could not
speak of him save with trembling hands and a blanched cheek.
He'd been taken swiftly to Beckenham, and had acted as
interpreter in a second interview even more dramatic than the first,
in which the two Englishmen had menaced their prisoner with
instant death if he did not comply with their demands.

(40:22):
Finally finding him proof against every threat, they had hurled
him back into his prison, and after reproaching Melas with
his treachery, which appeared from the newspaper advertisement. They had
stunned him with a blow from a stick, and he
remembered nothing more until he found us bending over him.
And this was a singular case of the Grecian interpreter,

(40:45):
the explanation of which is still involved in some mystery.
We were able to find out by communicating with the
gentleman who had answered the advertisement, that the unfortunate young
lady came of a wealthy Grecian family, and that she
had been on a visit to Sad and friends in England.
While there she had met a young man named Harold Latimer,

(41:06):
who had acquired an ascendancy over her, and had eventually
persuaded her to fly with him. Her friends, shocked at
the event, had contented themselves with informing her brother at Athens,
and had then washed their hands of the matter. The brother,
on his arrival in England, had imprudently placed himself in
the power of Latimer and of his associate, whose name

(41:28):
was Wilson Kemp, a man of the foulest antecedents. These two,
finding that through his ignorance of the language, he was
helpless in their hands, had kept him a prisoner and
had endeavored by cruelty and starvation to make him sign
away his own and his sister's property. They had kept
him in the house without the girl's knowledge, and the

(41:51):
plaster over the face had been for the purpose of
making recognition difficult in case she should ever catch a
glimpse of him. Her feminine perception, however, had instantly seen
through the disguise when, on the occasion of the interpreter's
visit she had seen him for the first time. The
poor girl, however, was herself a prisoner, for there was

(42:13):
no one about the house except the man who acted
as coachman and his wife, both of whom were tools
of the conspirators. Finding that their secret was out and
that their prisoner was not to be coerced, the two
villains with the girl had fled away at a few
hours notice from the furnished house which they had hired,
having first, as they thought, taken vengeance upon both the

(42:36):
man who had defied and the one who had betrayed them.
Months afterwards, a curious newspaper cutting reached us from Buda Pest.
It told how two englishmen who had been traveling with
a woman had met with a tragic end. They had
each been stabbed, it seems, and the Hungarian police were
of opinion that they had quarreled and had inflicted mortal

(43:00):
injuries upon each other. Holmes, however, is I fancy of
a different way of thinking, and holds to this day
that if one could find the Grecian girl, one might
learn how the wrongs of herself and her brother came
to be avenged. End of the Greek interpreter