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- Артур Конан Дойл
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And
so
it
was
that
I
found
myself
that
foggy
November
evening
pursuing
the
Camberwell
tram
with
my
heart
glowing
within
me
,
and
with
the
eager
determination
that
not
another
day
should
elapse
before
I
should
find
some
deed
which
was
worthy
of
my
lady
.
But
who
--
who
in
all
this
wide
world
could
ever
have
imagined
the
incredible
shape
which
that
deed
was
to
take
,
or
the
strange
steps
by
which
I
was
led
to
the
doing
of
it
?
And
,
after
all
,
this
opening
chapter
will
seem
to
the
reader
to
have
nothing
to
do
with
my
narrative
;
and
yet
there
would
have
been
no
narrative
without
it
,
for
it
is
only
when
a
man
goes
out
into
the
world
with
the
thought
that
there
are
heroisms
all
round
him
,
and
with
the
desire
all
alive
in
his
heart
to
follow
any
which
may
come
within
sight
of
him
,
that
he
breaks
away
as
I
did
from
the
life
he
knows
,
and
ventures
forth
into
the
wonderful
mystic
twilight
land
where
lie
the
great
adventures
and
the
great
rewards
.
Behold
me
,
then
,
at
the
office
of
the
Daily
Gazette
,
on
the
staff
of
which
I
was
a
most
insignificant
unit
,
with
the
settled
determination
that
very
night
,
if
possible
,
to
find
the
quest
which
should
be
worthy
of
my
Gladys
!
Was
it
hardness
,
was
it
selfishness
,
that
she
should
ask
me
to
risk
my
life
for
her
own
glorification
?
Such
thoughts
may
come
to
middle
age
;
but
never
to
ardent
three-and-twenty
in
the
fever
of
his
first
love
.
I
always
liked
McArdle
,
the
crabbed
,
old
,
round-backed
,
red-headed
news
editor
,
and
I
rather
hoped
that
he
liked
me
.
Of
course
,
Beaumont
was
the
real
boss
;
but
he
lived
in
the
rarefied
atmosphere
of
some
Olympian
height
from
which
he
could
distinguish
nothing
smaller
than
an
international
crisis
or
a
split
in
the
Cabinet
.
Sometimes
we
saw
him
passing
in
lonely
majesty
to
his
inner
sanctum
,
with
his
eyes
staring
vaguely
and
his
mind
hovering
over
the
Balkans
or
the
Persian
Gulf
.
He
was
above
and
beyond
us
.
But
McArdle
was
his
first
lieutenant
,
and
it
was
he
that
we
knew
.
The
old
man
nodded
as
I
entered
the
room
,
and
he
pushed
his
spectacles
far
up
on
his
bald
forehead
.
"
Well
,
Mr.
Malone
,
from
all
I
hear
,
you
seem
to
be
doing
very
well
,
"
said
he
in
his
kindly
Scotch
accent
.
I
thanked
him
.
"
The
colliery
explosion
was
excellent
.
So
was
the
Southwark
fire
.
You
have
the
true
descreeptive
touch
.
What
did
you
want
to
see
me
about
?
"
"
To
ask
a
favor
.
"
He
looked
alarmed
,
and
his
eyes
shunned
mine
.
"
Tut
,
tut
!
What
is
it
?
"
"
Do
you
think
,
Sir
,
that
you
could
possibly
send
me
on
some
mission
for
the
paper
?
I
would
do
my
best
to
put
it
through
and
get
you
some
good
copy
.
"
"
What
sort
of
meesion
had
you
in
your
mind
,
Mr.
Malone
?
"
