"My dear Holmes!"

"I fear there is no alternative, Watson. The room does not lend
itself to concealment, which is as well, as it is the less likely
to arouse suspicion. But just there, Watson, I fancy that it
could be done." Suddenly he sat up with a rigid intentness upon
his haggard face. "There are the wheels, Watson. Quick, man, if
you love me! And don't budge, whatever happens--whatever
happens, do you hear? Don't speak! Don't move! Just listen
with all your ears." Then in an instant his sudden access of
strength departed, and his masterful, purposeful talk droned away
into the low, vague murmurings of a semi-delirious man.

>From the hiding-place into which I had been so swiftly hustled I
heard the footfalls upon the stair, with the opening and the
closing of the bedroom door. Then, to my surprise, there came a
long silence, broken only by the heavy breathings and gaspings of
the sick man. I could imagine that our visitor was standing by
the bedside and looking down at the sufferer. At last that
strange hush was broken.

"Holmes!" he cried. "Holmes!" in the insistent tone of one who
awakens a sleeper. "Can't you hear me, Holmes?" There was a
rustling, as if he had shaken the sick man roughly by the
shoulder.

"Is that you, Mr. Smith?" Holmes whispered. "I hardly dared
hope that you would come."

The other laughed.