In the morning I obeyed Holmes's injunctions to the letter. A
hansom was procured with such precautions as would prevent its
being one which was placed ready for us, and I drove immedi-
ately after breakfast to the Lowther Arcade, through which I
hurried at the top of my speed. A brougham was waiting with a
very massive driver wrapped in a dark cloak, who, the instant
that I had stepped in, whipped up the horse and rattled off to
Victoria Station. On my alighting there he turned the camage,
and dashed away again without so much as a look in my direction.

So far all had gone admirably. My luggage was waiting for
me, and I had no difficulty in finding the carriage which Holmes
had indicated, the less so as it was the only one in the train
which was marked "Engaged." My only source of anxiety now
was the non-appearance of Holmes. The station clock marked
only seven minutes from the time when we were due to start. In
vain I searched among the groups of travellers and leave-takers
for the lithe figure of my friend. There was no sign of him. I
spent a few minutes in assisting a venerable Italian priest, who
was endeavouring to make a porter understand, in his broken
English, that his luggage was to be booked through to Paris.

Then, having taken another look round, I returned to my car-
riage, where I found that the porter, in spite of the ticket, had
given me my decrepit Italian friend as a travelling companion. It
was useless for me to explain to him that his presence was an
intrusion, for my Italian was even more limited than his English,
so I shrugged my shoulders resignedly, and continued to look out
anxiously for my friend. A chill of fear had come over me, as I
thought that his absence might mean that some blow had fallen
during the night. Already the doors had all been shut and the
whistle blown, when --
"My dear Watson," said a voice, "you have not even conde-
scended to say good-morning."

I turned in uncontrollable astonishment. The aged ecclesiastic
had turned his face towards me. For an instant the wrinkles were
smoothed away, the nose drew away from the chin, the lower lip
ceased to protrude and the mouth to mumble, the dull eyes
regained their fire, the drooping figure expanded. The next the
whole frame collapsed again, and Holmes had gone as quickly as
he had come.

"Good heavens!" I cried, "how you startled me!"

"Every precaution is still necessary," he whispered. "I have
reason to think that they are hot upon our trail. Ah, there is
Moriarty himself."

The train had already begun to move as Holmes spoke. Glanc-
ing back, I saw a tall man pushing his way furiously through the
crowd, and waving his hand as if he desired to have the train
stopped. It was too late, however, for we were rapidly gathering
momentum, and an instant later had shot clear of the station.

"With all our precautions, you see that we have cut it rather
fine," said Holmes, laughing. He rose, and throwing off the
black cassock and hat which had formed his disguise, he packed
them away in a hand-bag.

"Have you seen the morning paper, Watson?"

"No."

"You haven't seen about Baker Street, then?"

"Baker Street?"

"They set fire to our rooms last night. No great harm was
done."

"Good heavens, Holmes. this is intolerable!"

"They must have lost my track completely after their
bludgeonman was arrested. Otherwise they could not have imag-
ined that I had returned to my rooms. They have evidently taken
the precaution of watching you, however, and that is what has
brought Moriarty to Victoria. You could not have made any slip
in coming?"

"I did exactly what you advised."

"Did you find your brougham?"

"Yes, it was waiting."

"Did you recognize your coachman?"

"No."

"It was my brother Mycroft. It is an advantage to get about in
such a case without taking a mercenary into your confidence.

But we must plan what we are to do about Moriarty now."

"As this is an express, and as the boat runs in connection with
it, I should think we have shaken him off very effectively."

"My dear Watson, you evidently did not realize my meaning
when I said that this man may be taken as being quite on the
same intellectual plane as myself. You do not imagine that if I
were the pursuer I should allow myself to be baffled by so slight
an obstacle. Why, then, should you think so meanly of him?"

"What will he do?"

"What I should do."

"What would you do, then?"

"Engage a special."

"But it must be late."

"By no means. This train stops at Canterbury; and there is
always at least a quarter of an hour's delay at the boat. He will
catch us there."

"One would think that we were the criminals. Let us have him
arrested on his arrival."

"It would be to ruin the work of three months. We should get
the big fish. but the smaller would dart right and left out of the
net. On Monday we should have them all. No, an arrest is
inadmissible."

"What then?"

"We shall get out at Canterbury."

"And then?"

"Well, then we must make a cross-country journey to
Newhaven, and so over to Dieppe. Moriarty will again do what I
should do. He will get on to Paris, mark down our luggage, and
wait for two days at the depot. In the meantime we shall treat
ourselves to a couple of carpet-bags, encourage the manufactures
of the countries through which we travel, and make our way at
our leisure into Switzerland, via Luxembourg and Basle."

At Canterbury, therefore, we alighted, only to find that we
should have to walt an hour before we could get a train to
Newhaven.

I was still looking rather ruefully after the rapidly disappearing
luggage-van which contained my wardrobe, when Holmes pulled
my sleeve and pointed up the line.

"Already, you see," said he.

Far away, from among the Kentish woods there rose a thin
spray of smoke. A minute later a carriage and engine could be
seen flying along the open curve which leads to the station. We
had hardly time to take our place behind a pile of luggage when
it passed with a rattle and a roar, beating a blast of hot air into
our faces.

"There he goes," said Holmes, as we watched the carriage
swing and rock over the points. "There are limits, you see, to
our friend's intelligetnce. It would have been a coup-de-maitre
had he deduced what I would deduce and acted accordingly."

"And what would he have done had he overtaken us?"

"There cannot be the least doubt that he would have made a
murderous attack upon me. It is, however, a game at which two
may play. The question now is whether we should take a prema-
ture lunch here, or run our chance of starving before we reach
the buffet at Newhaven."

We made our way to Brussels that night and spent two days
there, moving on upon the third day as far as Strasbourg. On the
Monday morning Holmes had telegraphed to the London police,
and in the evening we found a reply waiting for us at our hotel.

Holmes tore it open, and then with a bitter curse hurled it into
the grate.

"I might have known it!" he groaned. "He has escaped!"

"Moriarty?"

"They have secured the whole gang with the exception of
him. He has given them the slip. Of course, when I had left the
country there was no one to cope with him. But I did think that I
had put the game in their hands. I think that you had better return
to England, Watson."

"Why?"

"Because you will find me a dangerous companion now. This
man's occupation is gone. He is lost if he returns to London. If I
read his character right he will devote his whole energies to
revenging himself upon me. He said as much in our short
interview, and I fancy that he meant it. I should certainly recom-
mend you to return to your practice."

It was hardly an appeal to be successful with one who was an
old campaigner as well as an old friend. We sat in the Strasbourg
salle-a-manger arguing the question for half an hour, but the
same night we had resumed our journey and were well on our
way to Geneva.

For a charming week we wandered up the valley of the Rhone,
and then, branching off at Leuk, we made our way over the
Gemmi Pass, still deep in snow, and so, by way of Interlaken, to
Meiringen. It was a lovely trip, the dainty green of the spring
below, the virgin white of the winter above; but it was clear to
me that never for one instant did Holmes forget the shadow
which lay across him. In the homely Alpine villages or in the
lonely mountain passes, I could still tell by his quick glancing
eyes and his sharp scrutiny of every face that passed us, that he
was well convinced that, walk where we would, we could not
walk ourselves clear of the danger which was dogging our
footsteps
Once, i remember, as we passed over the Gemmi, and walked
along the border of the melancholy Daubensee, a large rock
which had been dislodged from the ridge upon our right clattered
down and roared into the lake behind us. In an instant Holmes
had raced up on to the ridge, and, standing upon a lofty pinna-
cle, craned his neck in every direction. It was in vain that our
guide assured him that a fall of stones was a common chance in
the springtime at that spot. He said nothing, but he smiled at me
with the air of a man who sees the fulfilment of that which he
had expected.

And yet for all his watchfulness he was never depressed. On
the contrary, I can never recollect having seen him in such
exuberant spirits. Again and again he recurred to the fact that if
he could be assured that society was freed from Professor Moriarty
he would cheerfully bring his own career to a conclusion.

"I think that I may go so far as to say, Watson, that I have not
lived wholly in vain," he remarked. "If my record were closed
to-night I could still survey it with equanimity. The air of
London is the sweeter for my presence. In over a thousand cases
I am not aware that I have ever used my powers upon the wrong
side. Of late I have been tempted to look into the problems
furnished by nature rather than those more superficial ones tor
which our artificial state of society is responsible. Your memoirs
will draw to an end, Watson, upon the day that I crown my
career by the capture or extinction of the most dangerous and
capable criminal in Europe."

I shall be brief, and yet exact, in the little which remains for
me to tell. It is not a subject on which I would willingly dwell,
and yet I am conscious that a duty devolves upon me to omit no
detail.

It was on the third of May that we reached the little village of
Meiringen, where we put up at the Englischer Hof. then kept by
Peter Steiler the elder. Our landlord was an intelligent man and
spoke excellent English, having served for three years as waiter
at the Grosvenor Hotel in London. At his advice, on the after-
noon of the fourth we set off together, with the intention of
crossing the hills and spending the night at the hamlet of Rosenlaui.

We had strict injunctions, however, on no account to pass the
falls of Reichenbach, which are about halfway up the hills,
without making a small detour to see them.

It is, indeed, a fearful place. The torrent, swollen by the
melting snow, plunges into a tremendous abyss, from which the
spray rolls up like the smoke from a burning house. The shaft
into which the river hurls itself is an immense chasm, lined by
glistening coal-black rock, and narrowing into a creaming, boil-
ing pit of incalculable depth, which brims over and shoots the
stream onward over its jagged lip. The long sweep of green
water roaring forever down, and the thick flickering curtain of
spray hissing forever upward, turn a man giddy with their con-
stant whirl and clamour. We stood near the edge peering down at
the gleam of the breaking water far below us against the black
rocks, and listening to the half-human shout which came boom-
ing up with the spray out of the abyss.

The path has been cut halfway round the fall to afford a
complete view, but it ends abruptly, and the traveller has to
return as he came. We had turned to do so, when we saw a
Swiss lad come running along it with a letter in his hand. It bore
the mark of the hotel which we had just left and was addressed to
me by the landlord. It appeared that within a very few minutes of
our leaving, an English lady had arrived who was in the last
stage of consumption. She had wintered at Davos Platz and was
journeying now to join her friends at Lucerne, when a sudden
hemorrhage had overtaken her. It was thought that she could
hardly live a few hours, but it would be a great consolation to
her to see an English doctor, and, if I would only return, etc.

The good Steiler assured me in a postscript that he would himself
look upon my compliance as a very great favour, since the lady
absolutely refused to see a Swiss physician, and he could not but
feel that he was incurring a great responsibility.

The appeal was one which could not be ignored. It was
impossible to refuse the request of a fellow-countrywoman dying
in a strange land. Yet I had my scruples about leaving Holmes. It
was finally agreed, however, that he should retain the young
Swiss messenger with him as guide and companion while I
returned to Meiringen. My friend would stay some little time at
the fall, he said, and would then walk slowly over the hill to
Rosenlaui, where I was to rejoin him in the evening. As I turned
away I saw Holmes, with his back against a rock and his arms
folded, gazing down at the rush of the waters. It was the last that
I was ever destined to see of him in this world.

When I was near the bottom of the descent I looked back. It
was impossible, from that position, to see the fall, but I could
see the curving path which winds over the shoulder of the hills
and leads to it. Along this a man was, I remember, walking very
rapidly.

I could see his black figure clearly outlined against the green
behind him. I noted him, and the energy with which he walked,
but he passed from my mind again as I hurried on upon my
errand.

It may have been a little over an hour before I reached
Meiringen. Old Steiler was standing at the porch of his hotel.

"Well," said I, as I came hurrying up, "I trust that she is no
worse?"

A look of surprise passed over his face, and at the first quiver
of his eyebrows my heart turned to lead in my breast.

"You did not write this?" I said, pulling the letter from my
pocket. "There is no sick Englishwoman in the hotel?"

"Certainly not!" he cried. "But it has the hotel mark upon it!

Ha, it must have been written by that tall Englishman who came
in after you had gone. He said --"
But I waited for none of the landlord's explanation. In a tingle
of fear I was already running down the village street, and making
for the path which I had so lately descended. It had taken me an
hour to come down. For all my efforts two more had passed
betore I found myself at the fall of Reichenbach once more.

There was Holmes's Alpine-stock still leaning against the rock
by which I had left him. But there was no sign of him, and it
was in vain that I shouted. My only answer was my own voice
reverberating in a rolling echo from the cliffs around me.

It was the sight of that Alpine-stock which turned me cold and
sick. He had not gone to Rosenlaui, then. He had remained on
that three-foot path, with sheer wall on one side and sheer drop
on the other, until his enemy had overtaken him. The young
Swiss had gone too. He had probably been in the pay of Moriarty
and had left the two men together. And then what had happened?

Who was to tell us what had happened then?

I stood for a minute or two to collect myself, for I was dazed
with the horror of the thing. Then I began to think of Holmes's
own methods and to try to practise them in reading this tragedy.

It was, alas, only too easy to do. During our conversation we
had not gone to the end of the path, and the Alpine-stock marked
the place where we had stood. The blackish soil is kept forever
soft by the incessant drift of spray, and a bird would leave its
tread upon it. Two lines of footmarks were clearly marked along
the farther end of the path, both leading away from me. There
were none returning. A few yards from the end the soil was all
ploughed up into a patch of mud, and the brambles and ferns
which fringed the chasm were torn and bedraggled. I lay upon
my face and peered over with the spray spouting up all around
me. It had darkened since I left, and now I could only see here
and there the glistening of moisture upon the black walls, and far
away down at the end of the shaft the gleam of the broken water.

I shouted; but only that same half-human cry of the fall was
borne back to my ears.

But it was destined that I should, after all, have a last word of
greeting from my friend and comrade. I have said that his
Alpine-stock had been left leaning against a rock which jutted on
to the path. From the top of this bowlder the gleam of something
bright caught my eye, and raising my hand I found that it came
from the silver cigarette-case which he used to carry. As I took it
up a small square of paper upon which it had lain fluttered down
on to the ground. Unfolding it, I found that it consisted of three
pages torn from his notebook and addressed to me. It was
characteristic of the man that the direction was as precise. and
the writing as firm and clear, as though it had been written in his
study.

MY DEAR WATSON [it said]:
I write these few lines through the courtesy of Mr.

Moriarty, who awaits my convenience for the final discus-
sion of those questions which lie between us. He has been
giving me a sketch of the methods by which he avoided the
English police and kept himself informed of our move-
ments. They certainly confirm the very high opinion which
I had formed of his abilities. I am pleased to think that I
shall be able to free society from any further effects of his
presence, though I fear that it is at a cost which will give
pain to my friends, and especially, my dear Watson, to you.

I have already explained to you, however, that my career
had in any case reached its crisis, and that no possible
conclusion to it could be more congenial to me than this.

Indeed, if I may make a full confession to you, I was quite
convinced that the letter from Meiringen was a hoax, and I
allowed you to depart on that errand under the persuasion
that some development of this sort would follow. Tell In-
spector Patterson that the papers which he needs to convict
the gang are in pigeonhole M., done up in a blue envelope
and inscribed "Moriarty." I made every disposition of my
property before leaving England and handed it to my brother
Mycroft. Pray give my greetings to Mrs. Watson, and
believe me to be, my dear fellow
Very sincerely yours,
SHERLOCK HOLMES.

A few words may suffice to tell the little that remains. An
examination by experts leaves little doubt that a personal contest
between the two men ended, as it could hardly fail to end in such
a situation, in their reeling over, locked in each other's arms.

Any attempt at recovering the bodies was absolutely hopeless,
and there, deep down in that dreadful cauldron of swirling water
and seething foam, will lie for all time the most dangerous
criminal and the foremost champion of the law of their genera-
tion. The Swiss youth was never found again, and there can be
no doubt that he was one of the numerous agents whom Moriarty
kept in his employ. As to the gang, it will be within the memory
of the public how completely the evidence which Holmes had
accumulated exposed their organization, and how heavily the
hand of the dead man weighed upon them. Of their terrible chief
few details came out during the proceedings, and if I have now
been compelled to make a clear statement of his career, it is due
to those injudicious champions who have endeavoured to clear
his memory by attacks upon him whom I shall ever regard as the
best and the wisest man whom I have ever known.