The Complete Sherlock Holmes

On the other hand, I brought a bit of plaster down
and put it where I am wearing one myself at this
instant. You slipped up there, Mr. Holmes, clever
as you are; for if you had chanced to take off that
plaster you would have found no cut underneath
it.
“Well, that was the situation. If I could lie low
for a while and then get away where I could be
joined by my ‘widow’ we should have a chance
at last of living in peace for the rest of our lives.
These devils would give me no rest so long as I
was above ground; but if they saw in the papers
that Baldwin had got his man, there would be an
end of all my troubles. I hadn’t much time to make
it all clear to Barker and to my wife; but they understood
enough to be able to help me. I knew all
about this hiding place, so did Ames; but it never
entered his head to connect it with the matter. I
retired into it, and it was up to Barker to do the
rest.
“I guess you can fill in for yourselves what he
did. He opened the window and made the mark
on the sill to give an idea of how the murderer escaped.
It was a tall order, that; but as the bridge
was up there was no other way. Then, when everything
was fixed, he rang the bell for all he was
worth. What happened afterward you know. And
so, gentlemen, you can do what you please; but
I’ve told you the truth and the whole truth, so help
me God! What I ask you now is how do I stand by
the English law?”
There was a silence which was broken by Sherlock
Holmes.
The Valley Of Fear
698
“The English law is in the main a just law. You
will get no worse than your deserts from that, Mr.
Douglas. But I would ask you how did this man
know that you lived here, or how to get into your
house, or where to hide to get you?”
“I know nothing of this.”
Holmes’s face was very white and grave. “The
story is not over yet, I fear,” said he. “You may find
worse dangers than the English law, or even than
your enemies from America. I see trouble before
you, Mr. Douglas. You’ll take my advice and still
be on your guard.”
And now, my long-suffering readers, I will ask
you to come away with me for a time, far from
the Sussex Manor House of Birlstone, and far also
from the year of grace in which we made our
eventful journey which ended with the strange
story of the man who had been known as John
Douglas. I wish you to journey back some twenty
years in time, and westward some thousands of
miles in space, that I may lay before you a singular
and terrible narrative—so singular and so terrible
that you may find it hard to believe that even as I
tell it, even so did it occur.
Do not think that I intrude one story before another
is finished. As you read on you will find that
this is not so. And when I have detailed those distant
events and you have solved this mystery of the
past, we shall meet once more in those rooms on
Baker Street, where this, like so many other wonderful
happenings, will find its end.