Part 1 of the Dying Detective from his last bow. 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 Kristine. His last bow by Sir Arton Conan Doyle. The Dying Detective Part 1 Mrs. Hudson, the landlady of Sherlock Holmes, was a long-suffering woman. Not only was her first floor flat invaded at all hours by throngs of singular and often undesirable characters, but her remarkable lodger showed an eccentricity and irregularity in his life which must have sorely tried her patience. His incredible untidiness, his addiction to music at strange hours, his occasional revolver practice within doors, his weird and often malodorous scientific experiments, and the atmosphere of violence and danger which hung around him made him the very worst tenant in London. On the other hand, his payments were princely. I have no doubt that the house might have been purchased at the price which Holmes paid for his rooms during the years that I was with him. The landlady stood in the deepest eve of him. I'd never dared to interfere with him. However outrageous his proceedings might seem. She was fond of him too, for he had a remarkable gentleness and courtesy in his dealings with women. He disliked and distrusted the sex, but he was always a chivalrous opponent. Knowing how genuine was her regard for him, I listened earnestly to her story when she came to my rooms in the second year of my married life and told me of the sad condition to which my poor friend was reduced. He is dying, Dr. Watson, said she. For three days he has been sinking and I doubt if he will last the day. He would not let me get a doctor. This morning when I saw his bones sticking out of his face and his great bright eyes looking at me, I could stand no more of it. With your leave or without it, Mr. Holmes, I am going for a doctor this very hour, said I. Let it be Watson, then, said he. I wouldn't waste an hour in coming to him, sir, or you may not see him alive. I was horrified, for I had heard nothing of his ill illness. I need not say that I rushed for my coat and my hat, as we draw back I asked for the details. There is little I can tell you, sir. He has been walking at a case down at Rotherhees in an alley near the river and he has brought this illness back with him. He took to his bed on Wednesday afternoon and has never moved since. For these three days neither food nor drink has passed his lips. Good God! Why did you not call in a doctor? He wouldn't have it, sir. You know how masterful he is. I didn't dare to disobey him, but he is not long for his world, as you'll see for yourself the moment that you set eyes on him. He was indeed a deplorable spectacle. In the dim light of a foggy November day the sick room was a gloomy spot, but it was that gowned, wasted face staring at me from the bed, which sent a chill to my heart. His eyes had the brightness of fever. There was a hectic flush upon either cheek and dark crusts clung to his lips. The thin hands upon the coverlet twitched incessantly. His voice was croaking and spasmodic. He lay listlessly and as I entered the room, but the sight of me brought a gleam of recognition to his eyes. Well, Watson, we seem to have fallen upon evil days, said he in a feeble voice, but with something of his old carelessness of manner. My dear fellow, I cried approaching him. Stand back, stand right back, said he with the sharp imperiousness which I had assesated only with moments of crisis. If you approach me, Watson, I shall order you out of the house. But why? Because it is my desire. Is that not enough? Yes, Mrs. Hudson was right. He was more masterful than ever. It was pitiful, however, to see his exhaustion. I only wish to help, I explained. Exactly. You will help best by doing what you are told. Certainly Holmes. He relaxed the austerity of his manner. You are not angry, he asked, gasping for breath. Poor devil, how could I be angry when I saw him lying in such a plight before me? It's for your own sake, Watson, he croaked. For my sake? I know what is the matter with me. It is a coolly disease from Sumatra, a thing that the Dutch know more about than we, though they have made little of it up to date. One thing only is certain. It is infallibly deadly, and it is horribly contagious. He spoke now with a feverish energy, the long hands twitching and yerking as he motioned me away. Contagious by touch, Watson, that's it, by touch. Keep your distance and all as well. Good heavens, Holmes!  It would not affect me in the case of a stranger. Do you imagine it would prevent me from doing my duty to so old a friend? Again I advanced, but he repulsed me with the look of furious anger. If you will stand there, I will talk. If you do not, you must leave the room. I have so deep a respect for the extraordinary qualities of Holmes that I have always deferred to his wishes, even when I least understood them. But now all my professional instincts were aroused.  I at least was his in a sick room. Holmes, said I, you are not yourself. A thick man is but a child, and so I will treat you.  He looked at me with venomous eyes. If I am to have a doctor whether I will or not, let me at least have someone in whom I have confidence, said he. Then you have none in me? In your friendship certainly. But facts affect Watson, and after all, you are only a general practitioner with very limited experience and mediocre qualifications. It is painful to have to say these things, but you leave me no choice. I was bitterly hurt. Such a remark is unworthy of your Holmes. It shows me very clearly the state of your own nerves. But if you have no confidence in me, I would not intrude my services. Let me bring Sir Jasper Meek, or Pindrose Fisher, or any of the best men in London, but someone you must have, and that is final.  You mean well, Watson, said the thick man with something between a sob and a groan. Shall I demonstrate your own ignorance? What do you know, pray, of Tannapulli fever? What do you know of the block for mosa corruption? I have never heard of either. There are many problems of disease, many strange pathological possibilities in the East, Watson. He paused after each sentence to collect his failing strengths. I have learned so much during some recent researches, which have a medical criminal aspect. It was in the course of them that I contracted this complaint. You can do nothing. Possibly not, but I happen to know that Dr. Einstein, the greatest living authority upon tropical disease, is now in London. All remonstrance is useless, Holmes. I am going this instant to fetch him. I turned resolutely to the door. Never have I had such a shock. In an instant, with a tiger spring, the dying man had intercepted me. I heard the sharp snap of a twisted key. The next moment he had staggered back to his bed, exhausted and panting, after his one tremendous outflame of energy. You won't take the key from me by force, Watson. I've got you, my friend. Here you are, and here you will stay, until I will otherwise. But I'll humor you. All this in little gasps with terrible struggles for breath between. You've only my own good at heart. Of course, I know that very well. You shall have your way, but give me time to get my strength. Not now, Watson. Not now. It's four o'clock. At six you can go. This is insanity, Holmes. Only two hours, Watson. I promise you will go at six. Are you content to wait? I seem to have no choice. None in the world, Watson. Thank you. I need no help in arranging the closes. You will please keep your distance. Now, Watson, there is one other condition that I would make. You will seek help, not from the man you mention, but from the one that I choose. By all means. The first three sensible words that you have uttered since you entered this room, Watson. You will find some books over there. I am somewhat exhausted. I wonder how a battery feels when it pours electricity into a non-conductor at six, Watson. We resume our conversation. But it was destined to be resumed long before that hour, and in circumstances which gave me a shock, hardly second to that caused by his spring to the door. I had stood for some minutes looking at that silent figure in the bed. His face was almost covered by the closes, and he appeared to be asleep. Then, unable to settle down to reading, I walked slowly around the room, examining the pictures of celebrated criminals, with which every wall was adorned. Finally, in my aimless perambulation, I came to the mantelpiece. A litter of pipes, tobacco poaches, syringes, peep-and-knives, revolver cartridges, and other debris was scattered over it. In the midst of these was a small black and white ivory box, with a sliding lid. It was a neat little thing, and I had stretched out my hand to examine it more closely, when? It was a dreadful cry that he gave. A yell which might have been heard down the street. My skin went cold, and my hair bristled at that horrible scream. As I turned, I caught a glimpse of a convulsed face and frantic eyes. I stood paralyzed, with the little box in my hand. Put it down, down, this instant, Watson, this instant, I say. His head sank back upon the pillow, and he gave a deep sigh of relief, as I replaced the box upon the mantelpiece. I hate to have my things touched, Watson.  You figged me beyond endurance.  Sit down, man, and let me have my rest. The incident left a most unpleasant impression upon my mind. The violent and causeless excitement, followed by this brutality of speech, so far removed from his usual suivity, showed me how deep was the disorganization of his mind. Of all ruins, that of a noble mind is the most deplorable. I sat in silent ejection, until the stipulated time had passed. He seemed to have been watching the clock as well as I, for it was hardly six before he began to talk with the same feverish animation as before. Now, Watson, said he, have you any change in your pocket? Yes. Any silver? A good deal. How many half-crowns? I have five. Ah, too few, too few. Have very unfortunate, Watson. However, such as they are, you can put them in your watch pocket, and all the rest of your money in your left trouser pocket. Thank you. It will balance you so much better like that. This was raving insanity. He shuddered and again made a sound between a calf and a sap. You will now light the gas, Watson, but you will be very careful that not for one instant shall it be more than half on. I implore you to be careful, Watson. Thank you. That is excellent. No, you need not draw the blind. Now you will have the kindness to place some letters and papers upon this table within my reach. Thank you. Now, some of that litter from the mantelpiece. Excellent, Watson. There is a sugar-tongue there. Kindly raise that small ivory box with its assistance. Place it here among the papers. Good. You can now go and fetch Mr. Calverton Smith of Thirteen Leverbork Street. To tell the truth, my desire to fetch a doctor had somewhat weakened, for poor homes were so obviously delirious that it seemed dangerous to leave him. However, he was as eager now to consult the person named as he had been abstinent in refusing. I never heard the name, said I. Possibly not, my good Watson. It may surprise you to know that the man upon earth who is best versed in this disease is not a medical man but a planter. Mr. Calverton Smith is a well-known resident of Sumatra, now visiting London. An outbreak of the disease upon his plantation, which was distant from medical aid, caused him to study it himself, with some rather far-reaching consequences. He is a very methodical person, and I did not desire you to start before six, because I was well aware that you would not find him in his study. If you could persuade him to come here and give us the benefit of his unique experience of this disease, the investigation of which has been his dearest hobby, I cannot doubt that he could help me. I give Holmes these remarks as a consecutive whole, and will not attempt to indicate how they were interrupted by caspings for breath and those clutchings of his hands, which indicated the pain from which he was suffering. His appearance had changed for the worse during the few hours that I had been with him. Those hectic spots were more pronounced, the eyes shone more brightly, out of darkened hollows, and a cold sweat glimmered upon his brow. He still retained, however, the jaunty gallantry of his speech. To the last gasp he would always be the master. You will tell him exactly how you have left me," said he. You will convey the very impression which is in your own mind, a dying man, a dying and delirious man. Indeed, I cannot think why the whole bed of the ocean is not one solid mass of oysters, so prolific the creatures seem. Ah, I am wondering. Strange how the brain controls the brain. What was I saying, Watson? My directions for Mr. Cloverton Smith? Ah, yes, I remember. My life depends upon a plet with him, Watson. There is no good feeling between us. His nephew, Watson, I had suspicions of foul play, and I allowed him to see it. The boy died horribly. He has a grudge against me. You will soften him, Watson. Beg him, pray him, get him here by any means. He can save me. Only he. I will bring him in a cab if I have to carry him down to it. You will do nothing of the sort. You will persuade him to come, and then you will return in front of him. Make any excuse so as not to come with him. Don't forget, Watson. You won't fail me. You never did fail me. No doubt there are natural enemies which limit the increase of the creatures. You and I, Watson, we have done our part. Shall the world then be our run by Austers? No, no, horrible. You'll convey all that is in your mind.  He had handed me the key, and with a happy thought I took it with me lest he should lock himself in. Mrs. Hudson was waiting, trembling and weeping in the passage. Behind me, as I passed from the flat, I heard homeless, high, thin voice in some delirious chant. Below, as I stood whistling for a cab, a man came on me through the fog. How is Mr. Holmes, sir? he asked. It was an old acquaintance, Inspector Morton of Scotland Yard, dressed in an official tweed. He is very ill, I answered. He looked at me in a most singular fashion. Had it not been too fiendish, I could have imagined that the gleam of the fan light showed exultation in his face. I heard some rumour of it, said he. The cab had driven up, and I left him. Loverburg Street proved to be a line of fine houses lying in the vague borderland between Notting Hill and Kensington. The particular one, at which my cabin pulled up, had an air of smug and demure respectability in its old-fashioned iron railings, its messy folding door and its shining brasswork. All was in keeping with a solemn butler, who appeared framed in the pink radiance of a tinted electric light behind him. Yes, Mr. Cloverton Smith is in, Dr. Watson. Very good, sir. I will take up your card. My humble name and title did not appear to impress Mr. Cloverton Smith. Through the half-offend door I heard a high, petrolant, penetrating voice. Who is this person? What does he want? Dear me, Staples, how often have I said that I am not to be disturbed in my hours of study? There came a gentle flow of soothing explanation from the butler. Well, I won't see him, Staples. I can't have my work interrupted like this. I'm not at home. Stay so. Tell him to come in the morning if he really must see me. Again the gentle murmur. Well, well, give him that message. He can come in the morning, or he can stay away. My work must not be hindered. I thought of Holmes tossing upon his bed of sickness and counting the minutes, perhaps, until I could bring help to him. It was not a time to stand upon ceremony. His life depended upon my promptness. Before the apologetic butler had delivered his message, I had pushed past him and was in the room. End of The Dying Detective Part 1 Part 2 Of The Dying Detective From His Last Bow 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 Christine His Last Bow by Sir Artun Conan Doyle The Dying Detective Part 2 With the shrill cry of anger, a man rose from reclining chair beside the fire. I saw a great yellow face, coarse-grained and greasy, with heavy, double chin, and two sullen menacing grey eyes, which glared at me from under tufted and sandy brows.  The skull was of enormous capacity, and yet, as I looked down, I saw to my amazement that the figure of the man was small and frail, twisted in the shoulders and back, like one who was suffered from crickets in his childhood. What's this? he cried in a high, screaming voice. What is the meaning of this intrusion? Didn't I send you words that I would see you tomorrow morning? I am sorry, said I, but the matter cannot be delayed, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. The mention of my friend's name had an extraordinary effect upon the little man. The look of anger passed in an instant from his face. His features became tense and alert. Have you come from Holmes? he asked. I have just left him. What about Holmes? How is he? He is desperately ill. That is why I have come. The man motioned me to a chair and turned to resume his own. As he did so, I caught a glimpse of his face in the mirror over the mantelpiece. I could have sworn that it was set in a malicious and abominable smile. Yet I persuaded myself that it must have been some nervous contraction which I had surprised, for he turned to me an instant later with genuine concern upon his features. I am sorry to hear this, said he. I only know Mr. Holmes through some business dealings which we have had, but I have every respect for his talents and his character. He is an amateur of crime, as I am of disease. For him the villain, for me the microbe. There are my prisons. He continued pointing to a row of bottles and jars which stood upon a side table. Among those gelatin cultivation some of the very worst offenders in the world are now doing time. It was an account of your special knowledge that Mr. Holmes desired to see you. He has a high opinion of you and thought that you were the one man in London who could help him. The little man started and the jaunty smoking cap slid to the floor. Why? he asked. Why should Mr. Holmes think that I could help him in his trouble? Because of your knowledge of Eastern diseases. But why should he think that this disease which he has contracted is Eastern? Because in some professional inquiry he has been working among Chinese sailors down in the docks. Mr. Kovatun Smith smiled pleasantly and picked up his smoking cap. Oh, that's it, is it? said he. I trust the matter is not so grave as you suppose. How long has he been ill? About three days. Is he delirious? Occasionally. To toot, this sounds serious. It would be inhuman not to answer his call. I very much resent any interruption to my work this Dr. Watson. But this case is certainly exceptional. I will come with you at once. I remembered Holmes' injunction. I have another appointment, said I. Very good, I will go alone. I have a note of Mr. Holmes' address. You can rely upon my being there within half an hour at most. It was with a sinking heart that I ever entered Holmes' bedroom. For all that I knew the worst might have happened in my absence. To my enormous relief he had improved greatly in the interval. His appearance was as ghastly as ever, but all tries of delirium has left him, and he spoke in a feeble voice, it is true, but this even more than his usual crispness and lucidity. Well, did you see him, Watson? Yes, he is coming. I admirable, Watson, I admirable, you are the best of messengers. He wished to return with me. That would never do, Watson. That would be obviously impossible. Did he ask what ailed me? I told him about the Chinese in the East End. Exactly. Well, Watson, you have done all that a good friend could. You can now disappear from the scene. I must wait and hear his opinion, Holmes. Of course you must, but I have reasons to suppose that this opinion would be very much more frank and valuable if he imagines that we are alone. There is just room behind the head of my bed, Watson. 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 set 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 he set an excess of strength departed, and his masterful, purposeful talk drowned 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 thick 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 thick man roughly by the shoulder. Is that you, Mr. Smith? Holmes whispered. I hardly dared hope that you would come. The other laughed. I should imagine not, he said. And yet you say, I'm here. Calls of fire, Holmes. Calls of fire. It is very good of you, very noble of you. I appreciate your special knowledge. Our visitor sniggered. You do. You are fortunately the only man in London who does. Do you know what is the matter with you? The same, said Holmes. Ah, you recognize the symptoms. Only too well. Well, I shouldn't be surprised, Holmes. I shouldn't be surprised if it were the same. A bad look out for you if it is. Poor Victor was a dead man on the fourth day. A strong, hurty young fellow. It was certainly, as you said, very surprising that he should have contracted an out-of-the-way Asiatic disease in the heart of London. A disease, too, of which I had made such a very special study. Single or coincidence, Holmes. Very smart of you to notice it, but rather uncharitable to suggest that it was caused an effect. I knew that you did it. Oh, you did, did you? Well, you couldn't prove it anyhow. But what do you think of your self-spreading reports about me like that, and then crawling to me for help the moment you are in trouble? What sort of a game is that, eh? I heard the rasping, labored breathing of the sick man. Give me the water, he gasped. You are precious near your end, my friend, but I don't want you to go till I have had a word with you. That's why I give you water. Sir, don't slopp it about. That's right. Can you understand what I say? Holmes groaned. Do what you can for me. Let bygones be bygones, he whispered. I'll put the words out of my head, I swear I will. Only cure me, and I'll forget it. Forget what? Well, about Victor Savage's death. You as good as admitted just now that you had done it. I'll forget it. You can forget it or remember it, just as you like. I don't see you in the witness box. Quite another shaped box, my good Holmes, I assure you. It matters nothing to me that you should know how many of you died. It's not him we are talking about, it's you. Yes, yes. The fellow who came for me, I've forgotten his name, said that you contracted it down in the east end among the sailors. I could only account for it so.  Think yourself smart, don't you? You came across someone who was smarter this time. Now cast your mind back, Holmes. Can you think of no other way you could have got this thing? I can't think. My mind is gone. For heaven's sake, help me. Yes, I will help you. I'll help you to understand just where you are and how you got there.  Give me something to ease my pain. Painful, is it? Yes, the cool is used to do some squealing towards the end. Takes you as cramp, I fancy. Yes, yes, it is cramp. Well, you can hear what I say anyhow. Listen now. Can you remember any unusual incident in your life just about the time your symptoms began? No, no, nothing. Think again. I'm too ill to think. Well then, I'll help you. Did anything come by post? By post? A box by chance? I'm fainting, I'm gone. Listen, Holmes. There was a sound as if he was shaking a dying man and it was all that I could do to hold myself quiet in my heading place. You must hear me, you shall hear me. Do you remember a box, an ivory box, it came on Wednesday? You opened it, do you remember? Yes, yes, I opened it. There was a sharp spring inside it, some joke. It was no joke as you will find to your cost. You fool, you would have it and you have got it. Who asked you to cross my path? If you had left me alone, I would not have hurt you. I remember, Holmes gasped, the spring, it drew blood. This box, this on the table. The very one by George and it may as well leave the room in my pocket.  You knew too much of the fate of Victor Savage, so I have sent you to share it. You are very near your end, Holmes.  Holmes' voice had sung to an almost inaudible whisper. What is that, said Smith, turn up the gas. Ah, the shadows begin to fall, do they? Yes, I will turn it up that I may see you the better. He crossed the room and the light suddenly brightened. Is there any other little service that I can do you, my friend? A match and a cigarette. I nearly caught out in my joy and my amazement. He was speaking in his natural voice, a little weak perhaps, but the very voice I knew. There was a long pause and I felt that Colton Smith was standing in silent amazement looking down at his companion. What's the meaning of this? I heard him say, at last in a dry, rasping tone. The best way of successfully acting apart is to be it, said Holmes. I give you my words that for three days I have tasted neither food nor drink, until you were good enough to pour me out a glass of water. But it is the tobacco which I find most irksome. Ah, here are some cigarettes. I heard the striking of a match. That is very much better. Hello, hello! Do I hear the step of a friend? There were footfalls outside. The door opened and Inspector Morton appeared. All is in order and this is your man, said Holmes. The officer gave the usual cautions. I arrest you on the charge of the murder of one vector savage, he concluded. And you might add of the attempted murder of one Sherlock Holmes, remarked by a friend of the chuckle, to save an invalid trouble, Inspector. Mr. Colton Smith was good enough to give our signal by turning up the gas. By the way, the prisoner has a small box in the right hand pocket of his coat, which it would be as well to remove. Thank you. I would hand it gingerly if I were you. Put it down here. It may play its part in the trial. There was a sudden rush and a scuffle, followed by the clash of iron and a cry of pain. You'll only get yourself hurt, said the Inspector. Stand still, will you? There was the click of the closing handcuffs. A nice trap, cried the high snorling voice. It will bring you into the dark, Holmes, not me. He asked me to come here to cure him. I was sorry for him and I came. No, he will pretend no doubt that I have said anything which he may invent, which will corroborate his insane suspicions. You can lie as you like, Holmes, by words always as good as yours. Good heavens, cried Holmes. I had totally forgotten him. My dear Watson, I owe you a thousand apologies. To think that I should have overlooked you, I need not introduce you to Mr. Colathon Smith. Since I understand that you met somewhat earlier in the evening. Have you the cap below? I will follow you when I am dressed, for I may be of some use at the station. I never needed it more, said Holmes, as he refreshed himself with a glass of claret and some biscuits in the intervals of his toilet. However, as you know, my habits are irregular, and such a feat means less to me than to most men. It was very essential that I should impress Mrs. Hudson with the reality of my condition, since she was to convey it to you, and you in turn to him. You won't be offended, Watson. You will realize that among your many talents this simulation finds no place. And that if you had shared my secret, you would never have been able to impress Smith with the urgent necessity of his presence, which was the vital point of the whole scheme.   Your face of absolute fast does not improve on beauty, Watson. For the rest, there is nothing which a sponge may not cure. With Vaseline upon one's forehead, Bella Donna in one's eyes, rouge over the cheekbones and crusts of beeswax around one's lips, a very satisfying effect can be produced. Malingering is a subject upon which I have sometimes thought of writing a monograph. A little occasional talk about half-crowns, oysters, or any other extraneous subject produces a pleasing effect of delirium. But why would you not let me near you since there was in truth no infection? Can you ask, Maddie Watson? Do you imagine that I have no respect for your medical talents? Could I fancy that your astute judgment would pass a dying man who, however weak, had no rise of pulse or temperature? At four yards I could deceive you. If I failed to do so, who would bring my smith within my grasp? No, Watson, I would not touch that box. You can just see if you look at it sideways where the sharp spring, like a wiper's tooth, emerges as you open it.  My correspondence, however, is, as you know, a varied one and I am somewhat upon my guard against any packages which reach me. It was clear to me, however, that by pretending that he had really succeeded in his design I might surprise a confession. That pretence I have carried out with the thoroughness of the true artist. Thank you, Watson. You must help me on with my coat. When we have finished at the police station, I think that something nutritious at Simpson's would not be out of place. End of section 2 of The Dying Detective by Sir Arton Conan Doyle. LibriVox.org Reading by Robin Cotter October 2007 His Last Bow by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle The Disappearance of Lady Francis Carfax Part I But why Turkish? asked Mr. Sherlock Holmes, gazing fixedly at my boots. I was reclining in a cane-backed chair at the moment, and my protruded feet had attracted his ever-active attention. English, I answered in some surprise, I got them at Latimer's in Oxford Street. Holmes smiled with an expression of weary patience. The bath, he said, the bath, why the relaxing and expensive Turkish, rather than the invigorating homemade article? Because for the last few days I have been feeling romantic and old, a Turkish bath is what we call an alternative in medicine, a fresh starting point, a cleanser of the system. By the way, Holmes, I added, I have no doubt the connection between my boots and a Turkish bath is a perfectly self-evident one to a logical mind, and yet I should be obliged to you if you would indicate it. The train of reasoning is not very obscure, Watson, said Holmes, with the mischievous twinkle. It belongs to the same elementary class of deduction, which I should illustrate if I were to ask you who shared your cab in your drive this morning. I don't admit that a fresh illustration is an explanation, said I with some asperity. Bravo, Watson, a very dignified and logical remonstrance. Let me see what were the points. Take the last one first, the cab. You observe that you have some splashes on the left sleeve and shoulder of your coat. Had you sat in the centre of a handsome you would probably have had no splashes, and if you had they would certainly have been symmetrical. Therefore it is clear that you sat at the side.  That is very evident. Absurdly commonplace, is it not? But the boots and the bath? Equally childish. You were in the habit of doing up your boots in a certain way. I see them on this occasion fastened with an elaborate double bow, which is not your usual method of tying them. You have therefore had them off. Who has tied them? A bootmaker, or the boy at the bath. It is unlikely that it is the bootmaker, since your boots are nearly new. Well, what remains? The bath. Absurd, is it not? But for all that the Turkish bath has served a purpose. What is that? You say that you have had it because you need a change. Let me suggest that you take one. How would Lausanne do, my dear Watson? First-class tickets, and all expenses paid on a princely scale? Splendid! But why? Holmes leaned back in his armchair and took his notebook from his pocket. One of the most dangerous classes in the world, said he, is the drifting and friendless woman. She is the most harmless and often the most useful of mortals, but she is the inevitable insider of crime in others. She is helpless, she is migratory, she has sufficient means to take her from country to country and from hotel to hotel. She is lost, as often as not, in a maze of obscure pensions and boarding-houses.  When she is gobbled up, she is hardly missed. I much fear that some evil has come to the Lady France's car-fax. I was relieved that this sudden descent from the general to the particular. Holmes consulted his notes. Lady France's, he continued, is the sole survivor of the direct family of the late Earl of Rufton. The estates went, as you may remember, in the mail-line. She was left with limited means, but with some very remarkable old Spanish jewelry of silver and curiously cut diamonds to which she was fondly attached. Two attached, for she refused to leave them with her banker and always carried them about with her.  What has happened to her, then? Ah, what has happened to the Lady France's? Is she alive or dead? There is our problem. She is a lady of precise habits and for four years it has been her invariable custom to write every second week to Miss Dobney, her old governess, who was long retired and lives in Camberwell. It is this Miss Dobney who has consulted me. Nearly five weeks have passed without a word. The last letter was from the Hotel Nationale at Lausanne. Lady France's seems to have left there and given no address. The family are anxious and as they are exceedingly wealthy no sum will be spared if we can clear the matter up. Is Miss Dobney the only source of information? Surely she had other correspondence. There is one correspondent who is a sure draw, Watson. That is the bank. Single ladies must live and their passbooks are compressed diaries. She banks at Sylvester's. I have glanced over her account. The last cheque but one paid her bill at Lausanne, but it was a large one and probably left her with cash in hand. Only one cheque has been drawn since. To whom and where? To Miss Marie Devine. There is nothing to show where the cheque was drawn. It was cashed at Credit Lyonnais in Montpellier less than three weeks ago. The sum was fifty pounds. And who is Miss Marie Devine? And also I have been able to discover. Miss Marie Devine was the maid of Lady Frances Carfax. Why she should have paid her this cheque we have not yet determined. I have no doubt, however, that your researches will soon clear the matter up. My researches? Hence the health-giving expedition to Lausanne. You know that I cannot possibly leave London while old Abraham's is in such mortal terror of his life. Besides, on general principles it is best that I should not leave the country. Scotland Yard feels lonely without me, and it causes an unhealthy excitement among the criminal classes. Go then, my dear Watson, and if my humble counsel can ever be valued at so extravagant a rate as two-pencil word, it waits your disposal night and day at the end of the Continental Wire. Two days later found me at the Hotel Nationale at Lausanne, where I received every courtesy from the fans of Monsieur Moser, the well-known manager. Lady Frances, as he informed me, had stayed there for several weeks. She had been much liked by all who met her. Her age was not more than forty. She was still handsome and bore every sign of having, in her youth, been a very lovely woman. Monsieur Moser knew nothing of any valuable jewelry, but it had been remarked by the servants that the heavy trunk in the lady's bedroom was always scrupulously locked. Marie Devine, the maid, was as popular as her mistress. She was actually engaged to one of the headwaiters in the hotel, and there was no difficulty in getting her address. It was Eleven Rue de Trégant, Montpellier. All this I jotted down and felt that Holmes himself could not have been more adroit in collecting his facts. Only one corner still remained in the shadow. No light which I possessed could clear up the cause for the lady's sudden departure. She was very happy at Lausanne. There was every reason to believe that she intended to remain for the season in her luxurious rooms overlooking the lake, and yet she had left at a single day's notice, which involved her in the useless payment of a week's rent. Only Jules Vibère, the lover of the maid, had any suggestion to offer. He connected the sudden departure with the visit to the hotel a day or two before of a tall, dark, bearded man. —Un sauvage, unvertible sauvage! cried Jules Vibère. The man had room somewhere in the town. He had been seen talking earnestly to Madame on the promenade by the lake. Then he had called. She had refused to see him. He was English, but of his name there was no record. Madame had left the place immediately afterwards. Jules Vibère, and what was of more important Jules Vibère's sweetheart, thought that this call and this departure were cause and effect. Only one thing Jules would not discuss. That was the reason why Marie had left her mistress. Of that he could or would say nothing. If I wish to know, I must go to Montpellier and ask her. So ended the first chapter of my inquiry. The second was devoted to the place which Lady Frances Carfax had sought when she left Lausanne. Concerning this there had been some secrecy which confirmed the idea that she had gone with the intention of throwing someone off her track. Otherwise why should not her luggage have been openly labelled for Baden? Both she and it reached the renish spa by some circuitous route. This much I gathered from the manager of Cook's local office. So to Baden I went, after dispatching to homes an account of all my proceedings and receiving in reply a telegram of half-humorous commendation. At Baden the track was not difficult to follow. Lady Frances had stayed at the Englisher Hoff for a fortnight. While there she had made the acquaintance of a doctor Schlesinger and his wife a missionary from South America. Like most lonely ladies Lady Frances found her comfort and occupation in religion. Dr. Schlesinger's remarkable personality, his wholehearted devotion and the fact that he was recovering from a disease contracted in the exercise of his apostolic duties affected her deeply. She had helped Mrs. Schlesinger in the nursing of the convalescent saint. He spent his day as the manager described it to me upon a lounge chair in the veranda with an intended lady upon either side of him. He was preparing a map of the Holy Land with a special reference to the kingdom of the Midianites upon which he was writing a monograph. Finally having improved much in health he and his wife had returned to London and Lady Frances had started thither in their company. This was just three weeks before the manager had heard nothing since. As to the maid Marie she had gone off some days beforehand in floods of tears after informing the other maids that she was leaving service forever. Dr. Schlesinger had paid the bill of the whole party before his departure. By the way, said the landlord in conclusion, you are not the only friend of Lady Frances Garfax who is inquiring after her just now. Only a week or so ago he was a friend. Did he give a name? I asked, none, but he was an Englishman though of an unusual type. A savage? Said I, linking my facts after the fashion of my illustrious friend. Exactly, that describes him very well. He is a bulky, bearded, sunburn fellow who looks as if he would be more at home in a farmer's inn than in a fashionable hotel. A hard, fierce man, I should think, a story to offend. Already the mystery began to define itself, as figures grow clearer with the lifting of a fog. Here was this good and pious lady pursued from place to place by a sinister and unrelenting figure. She feared him or she would not have fled from Lausanne. He had still followed. Sooner or later he would overtake her. Had he already overtaken her? Was that the secret of silence? Could the good people who were her companions not screen her from his violence or his blackmail? What horrible purpose would deep design lay behind this long pursuit? There was the problem which I had to solve. To Holmes I wrote showing how rapidly and surely I had got down to the roots of the matter. In reply I had a telegram asking for a description of Dr. Schlesinger's left ear. Holmes's ideas of humour were strange and occasionally offensive so I took no notice of his ill-timed jest. Indeed I had already reached Montpellier in my pursuit of the maid Marie before his message came. I had no difficulty in finding the ex-servant and in learning all that she could tell me. She was a devoted creature who had only left her mistress because she was sure that she was in good hands and because her own approaching marriage made a separation inevitable in any case. Her mistress had, as she confessed with distress, shown some irritability of temper towards her during their stay in Baden and had even questioned her once as if she had suspicions of her honesty and this had made the parting easier than it would otherwise have been. Lady Francis had given her fifty pounds as a wedding present. Like me Marie viewed with deep distressed the stranger who had driven her mistress from Lausanne. With her own eyes she had seen him seize the lady's wrist with great violence on the public promenade by the lake. He was a fierce and terrible man. She believed that it was out of dread of him that Lady Francis had accepted the escort of the Schlossingers to London. She had never spoken to Marie about it, but many little signs had convinced the maid that her mistress lived in a state of continual nervous apprehension. So far she had gotten her narrative when suddenly she sprang from her chair and her face was convulsed with surprise and fear. See! she cried, the miscreant follows still. There is the very man of whom I speak. Through the open sitting-room window I saw a huge swarthy man with a bristling black beard walking slowly down the centre of the street and staring eagerly at the numbers of the houses. It was clear that, like myself, he was on the track of the maid. Acting upon the impulse of the moment I rushed out and accosted him. You were an Englishman, I said. What if I am? He asked with the most villainous scowl. May I ask what your name is? No, you may not. Said he with decision. The situation was awkward, but the most direct way is often the best. Where is the Lady Francis Carfax? I asked. He stared at me in amazement. What have you done with her? Why have you pursued her?  Said I. The fellow gave a bellow of anger and sprang upon me like a tiger. I have held my own in many a struggle, but the man had a grip of iron and the fury of a fiend.  He stood for an instant fuming with rage and uncertain whether he should not renew his attack. Then with a snarl of anger he left me and entered the cottage from which I had just come. I turned to thank my preserver who stood beside me in the roadway. Well, Watson, said he, a very pretty hash you have made of it. You'd better come back with me to London by the night express. An hour afterwards, Sherlock Holmes in his usual garb and style was seated in my private room at the hotel. His explanation of his sudden and opportune appearance was simplicity itself, for finding that he could get away from London he determined to head me off at the next obvious point of my travels. In the disguise of a working man he had sat in the cabaret waiting for my appearance. And a singularly consistent investigation you have made, my dear Watson, said he, I cannot at the moment recall any possible blunder which you have omitted. The total effect of your proceeding has been to give the alarm everywhere and yet to discover nothing. Perhaps you would have done no better, I answered bitterly. There is no perhaps about it. I have done better. Here is the honourable Philip Green to have you in this hotel and we may find him the starting point for a more successful investigation. A card had come up on a salver and it was followed by the same bearded ruffian who had attacked me in the street. He started when he saw me. What is this, Mr. Holmes? He asked. I had your note and I have come. But what is this man to do with the matter? This is my old friend and associate, Dr. Watson who is helping us in this affair. The stranger held out a huge sunburned hand with a few words of apology. I hope I didn't harm you. When you accused me of hurting her I lost my grip of myself. Indeed, I am not responsible in these days. My nerves are like live wires. But this situation is beyond me. What I want to know in the first place, Mr. Holmes, is how in the world you came to hear of my existence at all. I am in touch with Miss Dobney, Lady Francis's governess. Old Susan Dobney with the mobcap. I remember her well. And she remembers you. It was in the days before before you found it better to go to South Africa. Ah, I see you know my whole story. I need hide nothing from you. I swear to you, Mr. Holmes, that there never was in this world a man who loved a woman with a more wholehearted love than I had for Francis. I was a wild youngster. I know not worse than others of my class. But her mind was pure as snow. She could not bear a shadow of coarseness. So, when she came to hear of things that I had done, she would have no more to say to me. And yet she loved me. That is the wonder of it. Loved me well enough to remain single all her sainted days, just for my sake alone. When the years had passed and I had made my money at Barberton I thought perhaps I could seek her out and soften her. That she was still unmarried. I found her lozan and tried all I knew. She weakened, I think. But her will was strong. And when next I called, she had left the town. I traced her to Baden, and then, after a time, heard that her maid was here. I'm a rough fellow, fresh from a rough life. And when Dr. Watson spoke to me as he did, I lost hold of myself for a moment. But for God's sake tell me what has become of the Lady Francis. For us to find out," said Sherlock Holmes, with peculiar gravity, what is your London address, Mr. Green? The Langham Hotel will find me. Then may I recommend that you return there and be on hand in case I should want you? I have no desire to encourage false hopes, but you may rest assured that all that can be done will be done for the safety of Lady Francis. I can say no more for the instant. I will leave you this card so that you may be able to keep in touch with us. Now, Watson, if you will pack your bag, I will cable to Mrs. Hudson to make one of her best efforts for two hungry travelers at 7.30 tomorrow. End of The Disappearance of Lady Francis Carfax Part 1 Part 2 of The Disappearance of Lady Francis Carfax from his last bow. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Reading by Robin Cotter October 2007 His Last Bow by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle The Disappearance of Lady Francis Carfax Part 2 A telegram was awaiting us when we reached our Baker Street rooms which Holmes read with an exclamation of interest and threw across to me. Jagged or torn was the message and the place of origin was Baden. What is this? I asked. It is everything, Holmes answered. You may remember my seemingly irrelevant question as to this clerical gentleman's left ear. You did not answer it. I had left Baden and could not inquire. Exactly. For this reason I sent a duplicate to the manager of the Englisher Hoff whose answer lies here. What does it show? It shows, my dear Watson, that we are dealing with an exceptionally astute and dangerous man. The Reverend Dr. Schlesinger, missionary from South America, is none other than Holy Peters, one of the most unscrupulous rascals that Australia has ever evolved and for a young country it has turned out some very Finnish types. His particular specialty is the beguiling of lonely ladies by playing upon their religious feelings and his so-called wife, an English woman named Fraser, is a worthy helpmate. The nature of his tactics suggested his identity to me and this physical peculiarity he was badly bitten in a saloon fight at Adelaide in eighty-nine at my suspicion. This poor lady is in the hands of a most infernal couple who will stick at nothing, Watson. That she is already dead is a very likely supposition. If not, she is undoubtedly in some sort of confinement and unable to write to Miss Dobney or her other friends. It is always possible that she never reached London or that she has passed through it but the former is improbable as with their system of registration it is not easy for foreigners to play tricks with the continental police and the latter is also unlikely as these rogues cannot hope to find any other place where it would be as easy to keep a person under restraint. All my instincts tell me that she is in London but we have at present no possible means of telling where we can only take the obvious steps eat our dinner and possess our souls and patience later in the evening I will stroll down and have a word with my friend Lestrade at Scotland Yard but neither the official police nor Holmes's own small but very efficient organization sufficed to clear away the mystery. Amid the crowded millions of London the three persons we sought were as completely obliterated as if they had never lived advertisements were tried and failed clues were followed and led to nothing every criminal resort on in vain his old associates were watched but they kept clear of him and then suddenly after a week of helpless suspense there came a flash of light a silver and brilliant pendant of old Spanish design had been pawned at Bovington's in Westminster Road the pawner was a large clean-shaven man of clerical appearance his name and address were demonstrably false the ear had escaped notice and was surely that of Schlesinger three times had our bearded friend from the Langham called for news the third time within an hour of this fresh development his clothes were getting looser in his great body he seemed to be wilting away in his anxiety if you will only give me something to do with his constant wail at last Holmes could oblige him he has begun to pawn the jewels we should get him now but does this mean that any harm has befallen the Lady Frances Holmes shook his head very gravely supposing that they have held her prisoner up to now it is clear that they cannot let her loose without their own destruction we must prepare for the worst what can I do these people do not know you by sight no it is possible that he will go to some other pawnbroker in the future in that case we must begin again on the other hand he has had fair price of his life so if he is in need of ready money he will probably come back to Bovington's I will give you a note to them and they will let you wait in the shop if the fellow comes you will follow him home but no indiscretion and above all no violence I put you on your honour that you will take no step without my knowledge and a consent for two days the honourable Philip Green he was I may mention the son of the famous admiral who commanded the sea of Azoth Fleet in the Crimean War brought us no news on the evening of the third he rushed into our sitting-room pale trembling with every muscle of his powerful frame quivering with excitement we have him we have him he cried he was incoherent in his agitation Holmes soothed him with a few words and thrust him into an arm-chair come now she came only an hour ago it was the wife this time but the pendant she brought was the fellow of the other she is a tall pale woman with ferret eyes that is the lady said Holmes she left the office and I followed her she walked up the Kennington Road and I kept behind her presently she went into a shop Mr. Holmes it was an undertaker's my companion started well he asked in that vibrant voice she told of the fiery soul behind the cold gray face she was talking to the woman behind the counter I entered as well it is late I heard her say or words to that effect the woman was excusing herself it should be there before now it took longer being out of the ordinary they both stopped and looked at me so I asked some question and then left the shop you did excellently well what happened next but I hid myself in a doorway her suspicions had been aroused I think for she looked round her then she called a cab and got in I was lucky enough to get another and so to follow her she got down at last at number 36 Pultney Square, Brixton I drove past left my cab at the corner of the square and watched the house did you see anyone the windows were all in darkness save one on the lower floor the blind was down and I could not see in I was standing there wondering what I should do next when a covered van drove up with two men in it they descended, took something out of the van and carried it up the steps to the whole door Mr. Holmes it was a coffin ah for an instant I was in the point of rushing in the door had been opened to admit the men and their burden it was the woman who had opened it but as I stood there she caught a glimpse of me and I think that she recognized me I saw her start and she hastily closed the door I remembered my promise to you and here I am you have done excellent work said Holmes scribbling a few words upon a half sheet of paper we can do nothing legal without a warrant and you can serve the cause best by taking this note down to the authorities and getting one there may be some difficulty but I should think that the sale of the jewelry should be sufficient Lestrade will see to all details but they may murder her in the meanwhile what could the coffin mean and for whom could it be but for her we will do all that can be done Mr. Green not a moment will be lost leave it in our hands now Watson, he added as our client hurried away he will set the regular forces on the move we are as usual the irregulars and we must take our own line of action the situation strikes me as so desperate that the most extreme measures are justified not a moment is to be lost in getting to Pultney Square let us try to reconstruct the situation said he as we drove swiftly past the houses of Parliament and over Westminster Bridge these villains have coaxed this unhappy lady to London after first alienating her from her faithful maid if she has written any letters they have been intercepted through some confederate they have engaged a furnished house made her a prisoner and they have become possessed of the valuable jewelry which has been their object from the first already they have begun to sell part of it which seems safe enough to them since they have no reason to think that anyone is interested in the lady's fate when she is released she will of course denounce them therefore she must not be released but they cannot keep her under lock and key forever so murder is their only solution that seems very clear now we will take another line of reasoning when you follow two separate chains of thought Watson you will find some point of intersection which should approximate to the truth we will start now not from the lady but from the coffin and argue backward that incident proves I fear beyond all doubt that the lady is dead it points also to an orthodox burial with proper accompaniment of medical certificate and official sanction have the lady been obviously murdered they would have buried her in a hole in the back garden but here all is open and regular what does that mean surely that they have done her to death in some way which has deceived the doctor and simulated a natural end poisoning perhaps and yet how strange that they should ever let a doctor approach her unless he were a confederate which is hardly a credible proposition could they have forged a medical certificate dangerous Watson very dangerous no I hardly see them doing that pull up cabbie this is evidently the undertakers for we have just passed the pawnbrokers would you go in Watson your appearance inspires confidence ask what hour the poltney square funeral takes place tomorrow the woman in the shop answered me without hesitation that it was to be at 8 o'clock in the morning you see Watson no mystery everything above board in some way the legal forms have undoubtedly been complied with and they think that they have little to fear well there's nothing for it now but a direct frontal attack are you armed? my stick well well we shall be strong enough thrices he armed who hath his quarrel just we simply can't afford to wait for the police or to keep within the four corners of the law you can drive off cabbie now Watson will just take our luck together as we have occasionally done in the past he had rung loudly the door of a great dark house in the center of poltney square it was opened immediately and the figure of a tall woman was outlined against the dimlet hall well what do you want she asked sharply peering at us through the darkness I want to speak to Dr. Schlesinger said Holmes there is no such person here she answered and tried to close the door but Holmes had jammed it with his foot well I want to see the man who lives here whatever he may call himself said Holmes firmly she hesitated then she threw open the door well come in said she my husband is not afraid to face any man in the world she closed the door behind us and showed us into a sitting-room on the right side of the hall turning up the gas as she left us Mr. Peters will be with you in an instant she said her words were literally true it was hardly time to look around the dusty and moth-eaten apartment in which we found ourselves before the door opened and a big, clean-shaven, bald-headed man stepped lightly into the room he had a large red face with pendulous cheeks and a general air of superficial benevolence which was marred by a cruel, vicious mouth there is surely some mistake here gentlemen he said in an anxious, make-everything easy voice I fancy that you have been misdirected possibly if you tried farther down the street that will do we have no time to waste said my companion firmly you are Henry Peters of Adelaide late the reverend Dr. Schlesinger of Baden and South America I am as sure of that as that my own name is Sherlock Holmes Peters as I will now call him started and stared hard at his formidable pursuer I guess your name does not frighten me Mr. Holmes said he coolly when a man's conscience is easy you can't rattle him what is your business in my house I want to know what you have done with the lady Frances Carfax whom you brought away with you from Baden I'd be very glad if you could tell me where that lady may be Peters answered coolly I have a bill against her for nearly a hundred pounds and nothing to show for it but a couple of trumpery pendants that the dealer would hardly look at himself to Mrs. Peters and me at Baden it is a fact that I was using another name at the time and she stuck on to us until we came to London I paid her bill and her ticket once in London she gave us the slip and as I say left these out of date jewels to pay her bills you find her Mr. Holmes and I'm your debtor I mean to find her I'm going through this house till I do find her where is your warrant this half drew a revolver from his pocket this will have to serve till a better one comes why you are a common burglar so you might describe me said Holmes cheerfully my companion is also a dangerous ruffian and together we are going through your house our opponent opened the door fetch a policeman Annie said he there was a whisk of feminine skirts down the passage and the hall door was opened and shut Watson said Holmes if you try to stop us Peters you almost certainly get hurt where is that coffin which was brought into your house what do you want with the coffin it is in use there is a body in it I must see that body never with my consent then without it with a quick movement Holmes pushed the fellow to one side and passed into the hall a door half opened stood immediately before us we entered it was the dining room on the table under a half lit chandelier the coffin was lying Holmes turned up the gas and raised the lid deep down in the recesses of the coffin lay an emaciated figure the glare from the lights above beat down upon an aged and withered face by no possible process of cruelty, starvation or disease could this worn out wreck be the still beautiful lady Francis Holmes' face showed his amazement and also his relief thank God, he muttered it's someone else ah you've blundered badly for once Mr. Sherlock Holmes said Peters, who had followed us into the room who is this dead woman well if you really must know she is an old nurse of my wife's Rose Spender by name whom we found in the Brixton Workhouse infirmary we brought her round here called in Dr. Horsham of thirteen Furbank villas mind you take the address Mr. Holmes and had her carefully tended as Christian folks should on the third day she died certificate says senile decay but that's only the doctor's opinion and of course you know better we ordered her funeral to be carried out by Stimson and company of the Kennington Road who will bury her at eight o'clock tomorrow morning can you pick any hole in that Mr. Holmes you've made a silly blunder and you may as well own up to it I'd give something for a photograph of your gaping staring face when you pulled aside that lid expecting to see the Lady Francis Carfax and only found a poor old woman of ninety Holmes's expression was as impassive as ever under the jeers of his antagonist but his clenched hands betrayed his acute annoyance I am going through your house said he as a woman's voice and heavy steps sounded in the passage we'll soon see about that this way officers if you please these men have forced their way into my house and I cannot get rid of them help me to put them out a sergeant and constable stood in the doorway Holmes drew his card from his case this is my name and address this is my friend Dr. Watson bless you sir we know you very well said the sergeant but you can't stay here without a warrant of course not I quite understand that arrest him! cried Peters we know where to lay our hands on this gentleman if he is wanted said the sergeant majestically but you'll have to go Mr. Holmes yes Watson we shall have to go a minute later we were in the street once more Holmes was as cool as ever but I was hot with anger and humiliation the sergeant had followed us sorry Mr. Holmes what's the law? exactly sergeant you could not do otherwise I expect there was good reason for your presence there if there is anything I can do it's a missing lady sergeant and we think she is in that house I expect a warrant presently then I'll keep my eye on the parties Mr. Holmes if anything comes along I will surely let you know it was only nine o'clock and we were off full cry upon the trail at once first we drove to Brixton workhouse infirmary where we found that it was indeed the truth that a charitable couple had called some days before that they had claimed an imbecile old woman as a former servant and that they had obtained permission to take her away with them no surprise was expressed at the news that she had since died the doctor was our next goal he had been called in had found the woman dying of pure senility had actually seen her pass away and had signed the certificate in due form I assure you that everything was perfectly normal and there was no room for foul play in the matter, said he nothing in the house had struck him as suspicious save that for people of their class it was remarkable that they should have no servant so far and no farther went the doctor finally we found our way to Scotland Yard there had been difficulties of procedure in regard to the warrant some delay was inevitable but the certificate signature might not be obtained until next morning if Holmes would call about nine he could go down with the Lestrade and see it acted upon so ended the day saved the near midnight our friend the sergeant called to say that he had seen flickering lights here and there in the windows of the great dark house but that no one had left it and none had entered we could but pray for patience and wait for the morrow and too restless for sleep I left him smoking hard with his heavy dark brows knotted together and his long nervous fingers tapping upon the arms of his chair as he turned over in his mind every possible solution of the mystery several times in the course of the night I heard him prowling about the house finally just after I had been called in the morning he rushed into my room he was in his dressing-gown but his pale hollow-eyed face and his night had been a sleepless one what time is the funeral? eight was it not? he asked eagerly well it is seven twenty now good heavens Watson what has become of any brains that God has given me quick men quick it's life or death a hundred chances on death to one on life I'll never forgive myself never if we are too late five minutes had not passed before we were flying in a handsome Dan Baker street but even so it was twenty-five to eight as we passed ten and eight struck as we tore down the Brixton Road but others were late as well as we ten minutes after the hour the hearse was still standing at the door of the house and even as our foaming horse came to a halt the coffin supported by three men appeared on the threshold Holmes darted forward and barred their way take it back he cried laying his hand on the breast of the foremost take it back this instant what the devil do you mean once again I ask you where is your warrant shouted the furious Peters his big red face glaring over the farther end of the coffin the warrant is on its way this coffin shall remain in the house until it comes the authority in Holmes's voice had its effect upon the bearers Peters had suddenly vanished into the house and they obeyed these new orders quick Watson quick here's a screwdriver he shouted as the coffin was replaced upon the table here's one for you my man a sovereign if the lid comes off in a minute ask no questions work away that's good another and another now pull all together it's giving it's giving ah that does it at last with the united effort we tore off the coffin lid as we did so there came from the inside a stupefying and overpowering smell of chloroform a body lay within its head all wreathed in cotton wool which had been soaked in the narcotic Holmes plucked it off and disclosed the statuesque face of a handsome and spiritual woman of middle age in an instant he had passed his arm round the figure and raised her to a sitting position is she gone Watson is there a spark left surely we are not too late for half an hour it seemed that we were what with actual suffocation and what with the poisonous fumes of the chloroform the lady frances seemed to have passed the last point of her call and then at last with artificial respiration with injected ether with every device that science could suggest some flutter of life some quiver of the eyelids some dimming of a mirror spoke of the slowly returning life a cab had driven up and Holmes parting the blind looked out at it here is Lestrade with his warrant said he will find that his birds have flown and here he added a step hurried along the passage is someone who has a better right to nurse this lady than we have good morning Mr. Green I think that sooner we can move the lady frances the better meanwhile the funeral may proceed and the poor old woman who still lies in that coffin may go to her last resting place alone should you care to add the case to your annals my dear Watson at Holmes that evening it can only be as an example of that temporary eclipse a balanced mind may be exposed such slips are common to all mortals and the greatest is he who can recognize and repair them to this modified credit I may perhaps make some claim my night was haunted by the thought that somewhere a clue, a strange sentence, a curious observation had come under my notice and had been too easily dismissed then suddenly in the gray of the morning the words came back to me it was the remark of the undertaker's wife as reported by Philip Green she had said it should be there before now it took longer of being out of the ordinary it was the coffin of which she spoke it had been out of the ordinary that could only mean that it had been made to some special measurement but why why then in an instant I remembered the deep sides and the little wasted figure at the bottom why so large a coffin for so small a body and a room for another body both would be buried under the one certificate it had all been so clear if only my own sight had not been dimmed at eight the Lady Francis would be buried our one chance was to stop the coffin before it left the house it was a desperate chance that we might find her alive but it was a chance as the result showed these people had never to my knowledge done a murder they might shrink from actual violence at the last they could bury her with no sign of how she met her end and even if she were exhumed there was a chance for them I hoped that such considerations might prevail with them you can reconstruct this scene well enough you saw the horrible den upstairs where the poor lady had been kept so long they rushed in and overpowered her with their chloroform carried her down poured more into the coffin to ensure against her waking and then screwed down the lid a clever device Watson it is new to me in the annals of crime if our ex-missionary friends escape the clutches of Lestrade I shall expect to hear of some brilliant incidents in their future career End of The Disappearance of Lady Francis Carfax Part 2 Part 1 of The Adventure of the Devil's Foot from his last bow this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recorded by Laurie Ann Walden his last bow by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle The Adventure of the Devil's Foot Part 1 in recording from time to time some of the curious experiences and interesting recollections which I associate with my long and intimate friendship with Mr. Sherlock Holmes I have continually been faced by difficulties caused by his own aversion to publicity to his sombre and cynical spirit all popular applause was always abhorrent and nothing amused him more at the end of a successful case than to hand over the actual exposure to some orthodox official and to listen with a mocking smile to the general chorus of misplaced congratulation it was indeed this attitude upon the part of my friend and certainly not any lack of interesting material which has caused me of late years to lay very few of my records before the public my participation in some of his adventures was always a privilege which entailed discretion and reticence upon me it was then with considerable surprise that I received a telegram from Holmes last Tuesday he has never been known to write where a telegram would serve in the following terms why not tell them of the Cornish horror strangest case I have handled I have no idea what backward sweep of memory had brought the matter fresh to his mind or what freak had caused him to desire that I should recount it but I hasten before another cancelling telegram may arrive to hunt out the notes which give me the exact details of the case and to lay the narrative before my readers it was then in the spring of the year 1897 that Holmes's iron constitution showed some symptoms of giving way in the face of constant hard work of a most exacting kind aggravated perhaps by occasional indiscretions of his own in March of that year Dr. Moore Agar of Harley Street whose dramatic introduction to Holmes I may someday recount gave positive injunctions that the famous private agent lay aside all his cases and surrender himself to complete rest if he wished to avert an absolute breakdown the state of his health was not a matter in which he himself took the faintest interest for his mental detachment was absolute but he was induced at last on the threat of being permanently disqualified from work to give himself a complete change of scene and air thus it was that in the early spring of that year we found ourselves together in a small cottage near Polthoe Bay at the further extremity of the Cornish Peninsula it was a singular spot and one peculiarly well suited to the grim humor of my patient from the windows of our little white-washed house which stood high upon a grassy headland we looked down upon the whole sinister semi-circle of Mount's Bay that old death trap of sailing vessels with its fringe of black cliffs and surge-swept reefs on which innumerable seamen have met their end with a northerly breeze it lies placid and sheltered inviting the storm-tossed craft back into it for rest and protection then comes the sudden swirl round of the wind the blustering gale from the south-west the dragging anchor the lee shore and the last battle in the creaming breakers the wise mariner stands far out from that evil place on the land side our surroundings were as somber as on the sea it was a country of rolling moors lonely and done-colored with an occasional church tower to mark the side of some old-world village in every direction upon these moors there were traces of some banished race which had passed utterly away and left as its sole record strange monuments of stone irregular mounds which contained the burned ashes of the dead and curious earthworks which hinted at prehistoric strife the glamour and mystery of the place with its sinister atmosphere of forgotten nations appealed to the imagination of my friend he spent much of his time in long walks and solitary meditations upon the moor the ancient Cornish language had also arrested his attention and he had, I remember, conceived the idea that it was akin to the Chaldean and had been largely derived from the Phoenician traders in Tin he had received a consignment of books upon philology and was settling down to develop this thesis when suddenly, to my sorrow and to his unfaigned delight we found ourselves, even in that land of dreams plunged into a problem at our very doors which was more intense, more engrossing and infinitely more mysterious than any of those which had driven us from London our simple life and peaceful healthy routine were violently interrupted and we were precipitated into the midst of a series of events which caused the utmost excitement, not only in Cornwall but throughout the whole west of England many of my readers may retain some recollection of what was called at the time the Cornish horror, though a most imperfect account of the matter reached the London press now, after thirteen years I will give the true details of this inconceivable affair to the public I have said that Scattered Towers marked the villages which dotted this part of Cornwall the nearest of these was the Hamlet of Tradanic Wallace where the cottages of a couple of hundred inhabitants clustered round an ancient, moss-grown church the vicar of the parish, Mr. Roundhay was something of an archeologist and as such Holmes had made his acquaintance he was a middle-aged man, portly and affable with a considerable fund of local lore at his invitation we had taken tea at the vicarage and had come to know also Mr. Mortimer Triguinis, an independent gentleman who increased the clergyman's scanty resources by taking rooms in his large, straggling house the vicar, being a bachelor was glad to come to such an arrangement though he had little in common with his lodger who was a thin, dark, spectacled man with a stoop which gave the impression of actual physical deformity I remember that during our short visit we found the vicar garrulous but his lodger strangely reticent a sad-faced, introspective man sitting with averted eyes brooding apparently upon his own affairs these were the two men who entered abruptly into our little sitting-room on Tuesday, March the 16th shortly after our breakfast hour as we were smoking together preparatory to our daily excursion upon the moors Mr. Holmes said the vicar in an agitated voice the most extraordinary and tragic affair has occurred during the night it is the most unheard of business we can only regard it as a special providence that you should chance to be here at the time where in all England you are the one man we need I glared at the intrusive vicar with no very friendly eyes but Holmes took his pipe from his lips and sat up in his chair like an old hound who hears the view hallo he waved his hand to the sofa and our palpitating visitor with his agitated companion sat side by side upon it Mr. Mortimer Triguinis was more self-contained than the clergyman but the twitching of his thin hands and his dark eyes showed that they shared a common emotion shall I speak or you? he asked of the vicar well as you seem to have made the discovery whatever it may be and the vicar to have had it second hand perhaps you had better do the speaking said Holmes I glanced at the hastily clad clergyman with the formally dressed lodger seated beside him and was amused at the surprise which Holmes's simple deduction had brought to their faces perhaps I had best say a few words first said the vicar and then you can judge if you will listen to the details from Mr. Triguinis or whether we should not hasten at once to the scene of this mysterious affair I may explain then that our friend here spent last evening in the company of his two brothers, Owen and George and of his sister Brenda at their house of Tradanic Wartha which is near the old stone cross upon the moor he left them shortly after ten o'clock playing cards round the dining room table in excellent health and spirits this morning being an early riser he walked in that direction before breakfast and was overtaken by the carriage of Dr. Richards who explained that he had just been sent for on a most urgent call to Tradanic Wartha Mr. Mortimer Triguinis naturally went with him when he arrived at Tradanic Wartha he found an extraordinary state of things his two brothers and his sister were seated round the table exactly as he had left them cards still spread in front of them and the candles burned down to their sockets the sister lay back stone dead in her chair while the two brothers sat on each side of her laughing, shouting, and singing the senses stricken clean out of them all three of them, the dead woman and the two demented men retained upon their faces an expression of the utmost horror a convulsion of terror which was dreadful to look upon there was no sign of the presence of the porter, the old cook and housekeeper who declared that she had slept deeply and heard no sound during the night nothing had been stolen or disarranged and there is absolutely no explanation of what the horror can be which has frightened a woman to death and two strong men out of their senses there is the situation Mr. Holmes in a nutshell and if you can help us to clear it up you will have done a great work I had hoped that in some way I could coax my companion back into the quiet which had been the object of our journey but one glance at his intense face and contracted eyebrows told me how vain was now the expectation he sat for some little time in silence absorbed in the strange drama which had broken in upon our peace I will look into this matter he said at last on the face of it it would appear to be a case of a very exceptional nature have you been there yourself Mr. Round Hay? no Mr. Holmes Mr. Triguinis brought back the account to the vicarage and I at once hurried over with him to consult you how far is it to the house where this singular tragedy occurred about a mile inland then we shall walk over together but before we start I must ask you a few questions Mr. Mortimer Triguinis the other had been silent all this time but I had observed that his more controlled excitement was even greater than the obtrusive emotion of the clergyman he sat with a pale drawn face his anxious gaze fixed upon Holmes and his thin hands clasped convulsively together his pale lips quivered as he listened to the dreadful experience which had befallen his family and his dark eyes seemed to reflect something of the horror of the scene ask what you like Mr. Holmes said he eagerly it is a bad thing to speak of I will answer you the truth tell me about last night well Mr. Holmes I subbed there as the vicar has said and my elder brother George proposed a game of whist afterwards we sat down about nine o'clock it was a quarter past ten when I moved to go I left them all round the table as merry as could be who let you out Mrs. Porter had gone to bed so I let myself out the door behind me the window of the room in which they sat was closed but the blind was not drawn down there was no change in door or window this morning nor any reason to think that any stranger had been to the house yet there they sat driven clean mad with terror and Brenda lying dead of fright with her head hanging over the arm of the chair I'll never get the sight of that room out of my mind so long as I live the facts as you state them it is certainly most remarkable said Holmes I take it that you have no theory yourself which can in any way account for them it's devilish Mr. Holmes devilish cried Mortimer Troguenis it is not of this world something has come into that room which has dashed the light of reason from their minds what human contrivance could do that I fear said Holmes that if the matter is beyond humanity yet we must exhaust all natural explanations before we fall back upon such a theory as this as to yourself Mr. Troguenis I take it you were divided in some way from your family since they live together and you had rooms apart that is so Mr. Holmes though the matter is past and done with we were a family of ten minors at Redruth but we sold out our venture to a company and so retired with enough to keep us I won't deny that there was some feeling about the division of the money and it stood between us for a time but it was all forgiven and forgotten and we were the best of friends together looking back at the evening which you spent together does anything stand out in your memory is throwing any possible light upon the tragedy think carefully Mr. Troguenis for any clue which can help me there is nothing at all sir your people were in their usual spirits never better were they nervous people did they show any apprehension of coming danger nothing of the kind you have nothing to add then which could assist me Mortimer Troguenis considered earnestly for a moment there is one thing occurs to me said he at last as we sat at the table my back was to the window and my brother George he being my partner at cards was facing it I saw him once look hard over my shoulder so I turned round and looked also the blind was up and the window shut but I could just make out the bushes on the lawn and it seemed to me for a moment that I saw something moving among them I couldn't even say if it was man or animal but I just thought there was something there when I asked him what he was looking at he told me that he had the same feeling that is all that I can say did you not investigate no the matter passed is unimportant you left them then without any premonition of evil none at all I am not clear how you came to hear the news so early this morning I am an early riser and generally take a walk before breakfast this morning I had hardly started when the doctor in his carriage overtook me he told me that old Mrs. Porter had sent a boy down with an urgent message I sprang in beside him and we drove on when we got there we looked into that dreadful room the candles and the fire must have burned out hours before and they had been sitting there in the dark until dawn had broken the doctor said Brenda must have been dead at least six hours there were no signs of violence she just lay across the arm of the chair with that look on her face George and Owen were singing snatches of songs and gibbering like two great apes oh it was awful to see I couldn't stand it and the doctor was as white as a sheet indeed he fell into a chair in a sort of faint and we nearly had him on our hands as well remarkable most remarkable said Holmes rising and taking his hat I think perhaps we had better go down to Tradanic Wartha without further delay I confess that I have seldom known a case which at first sight presented a more singular problem our proceedings of that first morning did little to advance the investigation it was marked however at the outset by an incident which left the most sinister impression upon my mind the approach to the spot at which the tragedy occurred is down a narrow winding country lane while we made our way along it we heard the rattle of a carriage coming towards us and stood aside to let it pass as it drove by us I caught a glimpse through the closed window of a horribly contorted grinning face glaring out at us those staring eyes and gnashing teeth flashed past us like a dreadful vision my brothers, cried Mortimer Troguenis white to his lips they are taking them to Hellston we looked with horror after the black carriage lumbering upon its way then we turned our steps towards this ill-oamened house in which they had met their strange fate it was a large and bright dwelling rather a villa than a cottage with a considerable garden which was already in that cornish air well filled with spring flowers towards this garden the window of the sitting-room fronted and from it, according to Mortimer Troguenis must have come that thing of evil which had by sheer horror in a single instant blasted their minds Holmes walked slowly and thoughtfully among the flower-plots and along the path before we entered the porch so absorbed was he in his thoughts, I remember that he stumbled over the watering-pot upset its contents both our feet and the garden path inside the house we were met by the elderly Cornish housekeeper, Mrs. Porter who, with the aid of a young girl looked after the wants of the family she readily answered all Holmes's questions she had heard nothing in the night her employers had all been in excellent spirits lately and she had never known them more cheerful and prosperous she had fainted with horror upon entering the room in the morning round the table she had, when she recovered, thrown open the window to let the morning air in and had run down to the lane whence she sent a farm-lad for the doctor the lady was on her bed upstairs if we cared to see her it took four strong men to get the brothers into the asylum carriage she would not herself stay in the house another day and was starting that very afternoon to rejoin her family at St. Ives we ascended the stairs to the body Miss Brenda Tragenis had been a very beautiful girl though now verging upon middle age her dark, clear-cut face was handsome, even in death but there still lingered upon it something of that convulsion of horror which had been her last human emotion from her bedroom we descended to the sitting room where this strange tragedy had actually occurred the charred ashes of the overnight fire lay in the grate on the table were the four guttered walls with the cards scattered over its surface the chairs had been moved back against the walls but all else was as it had been the night before Holmes paced with light, swift steps about the room he sat in the various chairs drawing them up and reconstructing their positions he tested how much of the garden was visible he examined the floor, the ceiling and the fireplace but never once did I see that sudden brightening of his eyes and tightening of his lips would have told me that he saw some gleam of light in this utter darkness why a fire, he asked once had they always a fire in this small room on a spring evening? Mortimer Troguenis explained that the night was cold and damp for that reason after his arrival the fire was lit what are you going to do now, Mr. Holmes? he asked my friend smiled in late his hand upon my arm I think Watson that I shall resume that course of tobacco poisoning which you have so often and so justly condemned said he with your permission gentlemen we will now return to our cottage for I am not aware that any new factor is likely to come to our notice here I will turn the facts over in my mind Mr. Troguenis and should anything occur to me I will certainly communicate with you and the vicar in the meantime I wish you both good morning it was not until long after we were back that Holmes broke his complete and absorbed silence he sat coiled in his armchair his haggard and ascetic face hardly visible amid the blue swirl of his tobacco smoke his black brows drawn down his forehead contracted his eyes vacant and far away finally he laid down his pipe and sprang to his feet it won't do Watson said he with a laugh let us walk along the cliffs together and search for flint arrows to find them then clues to this problem to let the brain work without sufficient material is like racing an engine it racks itself to pieces the sea air, sunshine and patience Watson all else will come now let us calmly define our position Watson he continued as we skirted the cliffs together let us get a firm grip of the very little which we do know so that when fresh facts arise we may be ready to fit them into their places I take it in the first place that neither of us is prepared to admit diabolical intrusions into the affairs of men let us begin by ruling that entirely out of our minds very good there remain three persons who have been grievously stricken by some conscious or unconscious human agency that is firm ground now when did this occur evidently assuming his narrative to be true it was immediately after Mr. Mortimer Troguenis had left the room that is a very important point the presumption is that it was within a few minutes afterwards the cards still lay upon the table it was already past their usual hour for bed yet they had not changed their position or pushed back their chairs I repeat then that the occurrence was immediately after his departure and not later than eleven o'clock last night our next obvious step is to check so far as we can the movements of Mortimer Troguenis after he left the room in this there is no difficulty and they seem to be above suspicion knowing my methods as you do you were of course conscious of the somewhat clumsy water pot expedient by which I obtained a clearer impress of his foot than might otherwise have been possible the wet sandy path took it admirably last night was also wet you will remember and it was not difficult having obtained a sample print to pick out his track among others and to follow his movements he appears to have walked away swiftly in the direction of the vicarage if then Mortimer Troguenis disappeared from the scene and yet some outside person affected the card players how can we reconstruct that person and how was such an impression of horror conveyed Mrs. Porter may be eliminated she is evidently harmless is there any evidence that someone crept up to the garden window and in some manner produced so terrific an effect that he drove those who saw it out of their senses the only suggestion in this direction comes from Mortimer Troguenis himself who says that his brother spoke about some movement in the garden that is certainly remarkable as the night was rainy cloudy and dark anyone who had the design to alarm these people would be compelled to place his very face against the glass before he could be seen there is a three-foot flower border outside this window but no indication of a footmark it is difficult to imagine then how an outsider could have made so terrible an impression upon the company nor have we found any possible motive for so strange and elaborate an attempt you perceive our difficulties Watson they are only too clear I answered with conviction and yet with a little more material we may prove that they are not insurmountable said Holmes I fancy that among your extensive archives Watson you may find some which were nearly as obscure meanwhile we shall put the case aside until more accurate data are available and devote the rest of our morning to the pursuit of Neolithic man End of The Adventure of the Devil's Foot Part 1


Pamela Urchel, a BU senior studying abroad in London, is surprised to learn that no one will have to wear a mask at the upcoming graduation ceremony. BU officials made that announcement on March 24th. It's interesting to hear that those are the rules. I actually didn't know about that until right now about the graduation ceremony. Some health experts say that the change is to be expected. It's not unreasonable to continue moving in this direction of sort of de-escalating mitigation measures. In addition to the immunity we've built up, we also now have several therapies for COVID that we didn't have at the beginning of previous surges. Urchel says that she and her mother will still take precautions at graduation. My mom, she's 65, 66. So for us, I feel like being COVID safe is really important. I know that for me and her, we're going to be wearing our masks on the plane while we're traveling through Boston and also at graduation. Boston University officials say that guests at graduation do not need to show proof of vaccination. And nobody will have to wear a mask at the ceremony, but masks will be available for anybody who wants to use one. Reporting for BU-TV10, I'm Carmen Lustria.


A man from Canada got a bit drunk in winter months. He thought God is speaking. Then he went down on his knees and he said, where are you speaking from? If you do certain things, you will be ridiculed. Namaskaram, Sadhguru. I feel that my obstacle is fear of judgment or ridicule. Not of your judgment, somebody else's judgment. And you don't know what is their judgment. First of all, do they have the time to make judgments on you? Are they that interested in you to waste time making judgments on you? But somebody may something, may say something, if you're completely in the wrong direction. A man from Canada got a bit drunk in winter months. Then he thought he will go ice fishing. So he went and started cutting the ice. Then a booming voice said, there is no fish beneath this ice. He just startled. He thought God is speaking. Then he thought, because he couldn't see nothing, he thought maybe it's just a drink. And again he started hacking at the ice. Once again a booming voice said, there is no fish beneath the ice. Then he went down on his knees and he said, God, are you God, where are you speaking from? The voice said, I am the manager of the ice rink. If you do certain things, you will be ridiculed. But most of the time nobody has any time to think about you, to make judgments about you, to ridicule you. They don't have time, they're busy with their own stuff, you know. If they get a minute there, where are they looking at you? They're not even looking at you anymore. So, you don't bother.  I'm not saying you must make a fool of yourself all the time, but it's all right. Once in a way, to make a fool of yourself is very human. Yes? You're always super correct. This is a little bit of a problem. This doesn't mean that you're right.  Yes, I'm always right. Doesn't mean you've gotten it.  That's all you're not able to see.  If you're willing to be ridiculous, you will become very lovable.  Really? They think you're cute. So, don't bother about what somebody is thinking. What somebody is thinking is their problem, isn't it? What is happening in their mind is their problem. Yes or no? Aren't they coming and telling you? You're ridiculous? That means they're very helpful. Suppose you're digging in the ice rink to catch fish. Somebody told you. It was a very helpful suggestion, isn't it? They didn't tell you. You don't know what's happening in their mind. Why are you trying to read everybody's mind? You must be concerned what is the quality of your mind. Don't worry about the quality and content of other people's minds. It's not worth it, I'm telling you. Exploring other people's mind, it's not worth it. There's nothing really worthwhile.  If you're concerned about what he may be thinking, what she may be thinking, you will go crazy. Because you don't know what's happening, it's all guesswork.  So, from now on, you just look at this. If you think something is ridiculous, don't do it. If you think it's worth doing it, just do it, it doesn't matter. Somebody may think it's ridiculous. I can make fun of anything in the universe. This doesn't mean I'm against it.  Yes? It's a choice.  Or you can laugh about it. Your ability to fix it is better. Not that we can fix everything, but our ability to fix something is better when we're in a laughing mode, not in a crying mode, isn't it so? So, you don't bother. If somebody laughs, you can join and laugh. You'll make friends.   If you react to that, you will become a permanent ridicule. If you join with them and laugh, they will help you out of something that you may be doing wrong, possible. But anyway, most people are not thinking about you. Sorry to disappoint you.