Chapter X
The End of the Islander

Our meal was a merry one. Holmes coud talk exceedingly well when
he chose, and that night he did choose. He appeared to be in a
state of nervous exaltation. I have never known him so
brilliant. He spoke on a quick succession of subjects,--on
miracle-plays, on medieval pottery, on Stradivarius violins, on
the Buddhism of Ceylon, and on the war-ships of the future,--
handling each as though he had made a special study of it. His
bright humor marked the reaction from his black depression of the
preceding days. Athelney Jones proved to be a sociable soul in
his hours of relaxation, and face his dinner with the air of a
bon vivant. For myself, I felt elated at the thought that we
were nearing the end of our task, and I caught something of
Holmes's gaiety. None of us alluded during dinner to the cause
which had brought us together.

When the cloth was cleared, Holmes glanced at this watch, and
filled up three glasses with port. "One bumper," said he, "to
the success of our little expedition. And now it is high time we
were off. Have you a pistol, Watson?"

"I have my old service-revolver in my desk."

"You had best take it, then. It is well to be prepared. I see
that the cab is at the door. I ordered it for half-past six."

It was a little past seven before we reached the Westminster
wharf, and found our launch awaiting us. Holmes eyed it
critically.

"Is there anything to mark it as a police-boat?"

"Yes,--that green lamp at the side."

"Then take it off."

The small change was made, we stepped on board, and the ropes
were cast off. Jones, Holmes, and I sat in the stern. There was
one man at the rudder, one to tend the engines, and two burly
police-inspectors forward.

"Where to?" asked Jones.

"To the Tower. Tell them to stop opposite Jacobson's Yard."

Our craft was evidently a very fast one. We shot past the long
lines of loaded barges as though they were stationary. Holmes
smiled with satisfaction as we overhauled a river steamer and
left her behind us.

"We ought to be able to catch anything on the river," he said.

"Well, hardly that. But there are not many launches to beat us."

"We shall have to catch the Aurora, and she has a name for being
a clipper. I will tell you how the land lies, Watson. You
recollect how annoyed I was at being balked by so small a thing?"

"Yes."

"Well, I gave my mind a thorough rest by plunging into a chemical
analysis. One of our greatest statesmen has said that a change
of work is the best rest. So it is. When I had succeeded in
dissolving the hydrocarbon which I was at work at, I came back to
our problem of the Sholtos, and thought the whole matter out
again. My boys had been up the river and down the river without
result. The launch was not at any landing-stage or wharf, nor
had it returned. Yet it could hardly have been scuttled to hide
their traces,--though that always remained as a possible
hypothesis if all else failed. I knew this man Small had a
certain degree of low cunning, but I did not think him capable of
anything in the nature of delicate finesse. That is usually a
product of higher education. I then reflected that since he had
certainly been in London some time--as we had evidence that he
maintained a continual watch over Pondicherry Lodge--he could
hardly leave at a moment's notice, but would need some little
time, if it were only a day, to arrange his affairs. That was
the balance of probability, at any rate."

"It seems to me to be a little weak," said I. "It is more
probable that he had arranged his affairs before ever he set out
upon his expedition."

"No, I hardly think so. This lair of his would be too valuable a
retreat in case of need for him to give it up until he was sure
that he could do without it. But a second consideration struck
me. Jonathan Small must have felt that the peculiar appearance
of his companion, however much he may have top-coated him, would
give rise to gossip, and possibly be associated with this Norwood
tragedy. He was quite sharp enough to see that. They had
started from their head-quarters under cover of darkness, and he
would wish to get back before it was broad light. Now, it was
past three o'clock, according to Mrs. Smith, when they got the
boat. It would be quite bright, and people would be about in an
hour or so. Therefore, I argued, they did not go very far. They
paid Smith well to hold his tongue, reserved his launch for the
final escape, and hurried to their lodgings with the treasure-
box. In a couple of nights, when they had time to see what view
the papers took, and whether there was any suspicion, they would
make their way under cover of darkness to some ship at Gravesend
or in the Downs, where no doubt they had already arranged for
passages to America or the Colonies."

"But the launch? They could not have taken that to their
lodgings."

"Quite so. I argued that the launch must be no great way off, in
spite of its invisibility. I then put myself in the place of
Small, and looked at it as a man of his capacity would. He would
probably consider that to send back the launch or to keep it at a
wharf would make pursuit easy if the police did happen to get on
his track. How, then, could he conceal the launch and yet have
her at hand when wanted? I wondered what I should do myself if I
were in his shoes. I could only think of one way of doing it. I
might land the launch over to some boat-builder or repairer, with
directions to make a trifling change in her. She would then be
removed to his shed or hard, and so be effectually concealed,
while at the same time I could have her at a few hours' notice."

"That seems simple enough."

"It is just these very simple things which are extremely liable
to be overlooked. However, I determined to act on the idea. I
started at once in this harmless seaman's rig and inquired at all
the yards down the river. I drew blank at fifteen, but at the
sixteenth--Jacobson's--I learned that the Aurora had been handed
over to them two days ago by a wooden-legged man, with some
trivial directions as to her rudder. 'There ain't naught amiss
with her rudder,' said the foreman. 'There she lies, with the
red streaks.' At that moment who should come down but Mordecai
Smith, the missing owner? He was rather the worse for liquor. I
should not, of course, have known him, but he bellowed out his
name and the name of his launch. 'I want her to-night at eight
o'clock,' said he,--'eight o'clock sharp, mind, for I have two
gentlemen who won't be kept waiting.' They had evidently paid
him well, for he was very flush of money, chucking shillings
about to the men. I followed him some distance, but he subsided
into an ale-house: so I went back to the yard, and, happening to
pick up one of my boys on the way, I stationed him as a sentry
over the launch. He is to stand at water's edge and wave his
handkerchief to us when they start. We shall be lying off in the
stream, and it will be a strange thing if we do not take men,
treasure, and all."

"You have planned it all very neatly, whether they are the right
men or not," said Jones; "but if the affair were in my hands I
should have had a body of police in Jacobson's Yard, and arrested
them when they came down."

"Which would have been never. This man Small is a pretty shrewd
fellow. He would send a scout on ahead, and if anything made him
suspicious lie snug for another week."

"But you might have stuck to Mordecai Smith, and so been led to
their hiding-place," said I.

"In that case I should have wasted my day. I think that it is a
hundred to one against Smith knowing where they live. As long as
he has liquor and good pay, why should he ask questions? They
send him messages what to do. No, I thought over every possible
course, and this is the best."

While this conversation had been proceeding, we had been shooting
the long series of bridges which span the Thames. As we passed
the City the last rays of the sun were gilding the cross upon the
summit of St. Paul's. It was twilight before we reached the
Tower.

"That is Jacobson's Yard," said Holmes, pointing to a bristle of
masts and rigging on the Surrey side. "Cruise gently up and down
here under cover of this string of lighters." He took a pair of
night-glasses from his pocket and gazed some time at the shore.
"I see my sentry at his post," he remarked, "but no sign of a
handkerchief."

"Suppose we go down-stream a short way and lie in wait for them,"
said Jones, eagerly. We were all eager by this time, even the
policemen and stokers, who had a very vague idea of what was
going forward.

"We have no right to take anything for granted," Holmes answered.
"It is certainly ten to one that they go down-stream, but we
cannot be certain. From this point we can see the entrance of
the yard, and they can hardly see us. It will be a clear night
and plenty of light. We must stay where we are. See how the
folk swarm over yonder in the gaslight."

"They are coming from work in the yard."

"Dirty-looking rascals, but I suppose every one has some little
immortal spark concealed about him. You would not think it, to
look at them. There is no a priori probability about it. A
strange enigma is man!"

"Some one calls him a soul concealed in an animal," I suggested.

"Winwood Reade is good upon the subject," said Holmes. "He
remarks that, while the individual man is an insoluble puzzle, in
the aggregate he becomes a mathematical certainty. You can, for
example, never foretell what any one man will do, but you can say
with precision what an average number will be up to. Individuals
vary, but percentages remain constant. So says the statistician.
But do I see a handkerchief? Surely there is a white flutter
over yonder."

"Yes, it is your boy," I cried. "I can see him plainly."

"And there is the Aurora," exclaimed Holmes, "and going like the
devil! Full speed ahead, engineer. Make after that launch with
the yellow light. By heaven, I shall never forgive myself if she
proves to have the heels of us!"

She had slipped unseen through the yard-entrance and passed
behind two or three small craft, so that she had fairly got her
speed up before we saw her. Now she was flying down the stream,
near in to the shore, going at a tremendous rate. Jones looked
gravely at her and shook his head.

"She is very fast," he said. "I doubt if we shall catch her."

"We MUST catch her!" cried Holmes, between his teeth. "Heap it
on, stokers! Make her do all she can! If we burn the boat we
must have them!"

We were fairly after her now. The furnaces roared, and the
powerful engines whizzed and clanked, like a great metallic
heart. Her sharp, steep prow cut through the river-water and
sent two rolling waves to right and to left of us. With every
throb of the engines we sprang and quivered like a living thing.
One great yellow lantern in our bows threw a long, flickering
funnel of light in front of us. Right ahead a dark blur upon the
water showed where the Aurora lay, and the swirl of white foam
behind her spoke of the pace at which she was going. We flashed
past barges, steamers, merchant-vessels, in and out, behind this
one and round the other. Voices hailed us out of the darkness,
but still the Aurora thundered on, and still we followed close
upon her track.

"Pile it on, men, pile it on!" cried Holmes, looking down into
the engine-room, while the fierce glow from below beat upon his
eager, aquiline face. "Get every pound of steam you can."

"I think we gain a little," said Jones, with his eyes on the
Aurora.

"I am sure of it," said I. "We shall be up with her in a very
few minutes."

At that moment, however, as our evil fate would have it, a tug
with three barges in tow blundered in between us. It was only by
putting our helm hard down that we avoided a collision, and
before we could round them and recover our way the Aurora had
gained a good two hundred yards. She was still, however, well in
view, and the murky uncertain twilight was setting into a clear
starlit night. Our boilers were strained to their utmost, and
the frail shell vibrated and creaked with the fierce energy which
was driving us along. We had shot through the Pool, past the
West India Docks, down the long Deptford Reach, and up again
after rounding the Isle of Dogs. The dull blur in front of us
resolved itself now clearly enough into the dainty Aurora. Jones
turned our search-light upon her, so that we could plainly see
the figures upon her deck. One man sat by the stern, with
something black between his knees over which he stooped. Beside
him lay a dark mass which looked like a Newfoundland dog. The
boy held the tiller, while against the red glare of the furnace I
could see old Smith, stripped to the waist, and shovelling coals
for dear life. They may have had some doubt at first as to
whether we were really pursuing them, but now as we followed
every winding and turning which they took there could no longer
be any question about it. At Greenwich we were about three
hundred paces behind them. At Blackwall we could not have been
more than two hundred and fifty. I have coursed many creatures
in many countries during my checkered career, but never did sport
give me such a wild thrill as this mad, flying man-hunt down the
Thames. Steadily we drew in upon them, yard by yard. In the
silence of the night we could hear the panting and clanking of
their machinery. The man in the stern still crouched upon the
deck, and his arms were moving as though he were busy, while
every now and then he would look up and measure with a glance the
distance which still separated us. Nearer we came and nearer.
Jones yelled to them to stop. We were not more than four boat's
lengths behind them, both boats flying at a tremendous pace. It
was a clear reach of the river, with Barking Level upon one side
and the melancholy Plumstead Marshes upon the other. At our hail
the man in the stern sprang up from the deck and shook his two
clinched fists at us, cursing the while in a high, cracked voice.
He was a good-sized, powerful man, and as he stood poising
himself with legs astride I could see that from the thigh
downwards there was but a wooden stump upon the right side. At
the sound of his strident, angry cries there was movement in the
huddled bundle upon the deck. It straightened itself into a
little black man--the smallest I have ever seen--with a great,
misshapen head and a shock of tangled, dishevelled hair. Holmes
had already drawn his revolver, and I whipped out mine at the
sight of this savage, distorted creature. He was wrapped in some
sort of dark ulster or blanket, which left only his face exposed;
but that face was enough to give a man a sleepless night. Never
have I seen features so deeply marked with all bestiality and
cruelty. His small eyes glowed and burned with a sombre light,
and his thick lips were writhed back from his teeth, which
grinned and chattered at us with a half animal fury.

"Fire if he raises his hand," said Holmes, quietly. We were
within a boat's-length by this time, and almost within touch of
our quarry. I can see the two of them now as they stood, the
white man with his legs far apart, shrieking out curses, and the
unhallowed dwarf with his hideous face, and his strong yellow
teeth gnashing at us in the light of our lantern.

It was well that we had so clear a view of him. Even as we
looked he plucked out from under his covering a short, round
piece of wood, like a school-ruler, and clapped it to his lips.
Our pistols rang out together. He whirled round, threw up his
arms, and with a kind of choking cough fell sideways into the
stream. I caught one glimpse of his venomous, menacing eyes amid
the white swirl of the waters. At the same moment the wooden-
legged man threw himself upon the rudder and put it hard down, so
that his boat made straight in for the southern bank, while we
shot past her stern, only clearing her by a few feet. We were
round after her in an instant, but she was already nearly at the
bank. It was a wild and desolate place, where the moon glimmered
upon a wide expanse of marsh-land, with pools of stagnant water
and beds of decaying vegetation. The launch with a dull thud ran
up upon the mud-bank, with her bow in the air and her stern flush
with the water. The fugitive sprang out, but his stump instantly
sank its whole length into the sodden soil. In vain he struggled
and writhed. Not one step could he possibly take either forwards
or backwards. He yelled in impotent rage, and kicked frantically
into the mud with his other foot, but his struggles only bored
his wooden pin the deeper into the sticky bank. When we brought
our launch alongside he was so firmly anchored that it was only
by throwing the end of a rope over his shoulders that we were
able to haul him out, and to drag him, like some evil fish, over
our side. The two Smiths, father and son, sat sullenly in their
launch, but came aboard meekly enough when commanded. The Aurora
herself we hauled off and made fast to our stern. A solid iron
chest of Indian workmanship stood upon the deck. This, there
could be no question, was the same that had contained the ill-
omened treasure of the Sholtos. There was no key, but it was of
considerable weight, so we transferred it carefully to our own
little cabin. As we steamed slowly up-stream again, we flashed
our search-light in every direction, but there was no sign of the
Islander. Somewhere in the dark ooze at the bottom of the Thames
lie the bones of that strange visitor to our shores.

"See here," said Holmes, pointing to the wooden hatchway. "We
were hardly quick enough with our pistols." There, sure enough,
just behind where we had been standing, stuck one of those
murderous darts which we knew so well. It must have whizzed
between us at the instant that we fired. Holmes smiled at it and
shrugged his shoulders in his easy fashion, but I confess that it
turned me sick to think of the horrible death which had passed so
close to us that night.