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Looking
straight
at
me
,
and
suspended
,
as
it
were
,
in
the
air
,
for
all
beneath
was
in
shadow
,
there
hung
a
face
,
—
the
very
face
of
our
companion
Thaddeus
.
There
was
the
same
high
,
shining
head
,
the
same
circular
bristle
of
red
hair
,
the
same
bloodless
countenance
.
The
features
were
set
,
however
,
in
a
horrible
smile
,
a
fixed
and
unnatural
grin
,
which
in
that
still
and
moonlit
room
was
more
jarring
to
the
nerves
than
any
scowl
or
contortion
.
So
like
was
the
face
to
that
of
our
little
friend
that
I
looked
round
at
him
to
make
sure
that
he
was
indeed
with
us
.
Then
I
recalled
to
mind
that
he
had
mentioned
to
us
that
his
brother
and
he
were
twins
.
“
This
is
terrible
!
”
I
said
to
Holmes
.
“
What
is
to
be
done
?
”
“
The
door
must
come
down
,
”
he
answered
,
and
,
springing
against
it
,
he
put
all
his
weight
upon
the
lock
.
It
creaked
and
groaned
,
but
did
not
yield
.
Together
we
flung
ourselves
upon
it
once
more
,
and
this
time
it
gave
way
with
a
sudden
snap
,
and
we
found
ourselves
within
Bartholomew
Sholto
’
s
chamber
.
It
appeared
to
have
been
fitted
up
as
a
chemical
laboratory
.
A
double
line
of
glass
-
stoppered
bottles
was
drawn
up
upon
the
wall
opposite
the
door
,
and
the
table
was
littered
over
with
Bunsen
burners
,
test
-
tubes
,
and
retorts
.
In
the
corners
stood
carboys
of
acid
in
wicker
baskets
.
One
of
these
appeared
to
leak
or
to
have
been
broken
,
for
a
stream
of
dark
-
coloured
liquid
had
trickled
out
from
it
,
and
the
air
was
heavy
with
a
peculiarly
pungent
,
tar
-
like
odour
.
A
set
of
steps
stood
at
one
side
of
the
room
,
in
the
midst
of
a
litter
of
lath
and
plaster
,
and
above
them
there
was
an
opening
in
the
ceiling
large
enough
for
a
man
to
pass
through
.
At
the
foot
of
the
steps
a
long
coil
of
rope
was
thrown
carelessly
together
.
By
the
table
,
in
a
wooden
arm
-
chair
,
the
master
of
the
house
was
seated
all
in
a
heap
,
with
his
head
sunk
upon
his
left
shoulder
,
and
that
ghastly
,
inscrutable
smile
upon
his
face
.
He
was
stiff
and
cold
,
and
had
clearly
been
dead
many
hours
.
It
seemed
to
me
that
not
only
his
features
but
all
his
limbs
were
twisted
and
turned
in
the
most
fantastic
fashion
.
By
his
hand
upon
the
table
there
lay
a
peculiar
instrument
,
—
a
brown
,
close
-
grained
stick
,
with
a
stone
head
like
a
hammer
,
rudely
lashed
on
with
coarse
twine
.
Beside
it
was
a
torn
sheet
of
note
-
paper
with
some
words
scrawled
upon
it
.
Holmes
glanced
at
it
,
and
then
handed
it
to
me
.
“
You
see
,
”
he
said
,
with
a
significant
raising
of
the
eyebrows
.
In
the
light
of
the
lantern
I
read
,
with
a
thrill
of
horror
,
“
The
sign
of
the
four
.
”
“
In
God
’
s
name
,
what
does
it
all
mean
?
”
I
asked
.
“
It
means
murder
,
”
said
he
,
stooping
over
the
dead
man
.
“
Ah
,
I
expected
it
.
Look
here
!
”
He
pointed
to
what
looked
like
a
long
,
dark
thorn
stuck
in
the
skin
just
above
the
ear
.
