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It was after five o'clock when Sherlock Holmes left me, but I had

no time to be lonely, for within an hour there arrived a

confectioner's man with a very large flat box. This he unpacked

with the help of a youth whom he had brought with him, and

presently, to my very great astonishment, a quite epicurean

little cold supper began to be laid out upon our humble

lodging-house mahogany. There were a couple of brace of cold

woodcock, a pheasant, a pate de foie gras pie with a group of

ancient and cobwebby bottles. Having laid out all these luxuries,

my two visitors vanished away, like the genii of the Arabian

Nights, with no explanation save that the things had been paid

for and were ordered to this address.

Just before nine o'clock Sherlock Holmes stepped briskly into the

room. His features were gravely set, but there was a light in his

eye which made me think that he had not been disappointed in his

conclusions.

"They have laid the supper, then," he said, rubbing his hands.