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consequences of the deed. Finally, after much
debate, they concluded that my murder was too dangerous. But they
determined to get rid forever of Garcia. They had gagged me, and
Murillo twisted my arm round until I gave him the address. I swear
that he might have twisted it off had I understood what it would mean
to Garcia. Lopez addressed the note which I had written, sealed it
with his sleeve-link, and sent it by the hand of the servant, Jose.
How they murdered him I do not know, save that it was Murillo's hand
who struck him down, for Lopez had remained to guard me. I believe he
must have waited among the gorse bushes through which the path winds
and struck him down as he passed. At first they were of a mind to let
him enter the house and to kill him as a detected burglar; but they
argued that if they were mixed up in an inquiry their own identity
would at once be publicly disclosed and they would be open to further
attacks. With the death of Garcia, the pursuit might cease, since such
a death might frighten others from the task.
    "All would now have been well for them had it not been for my knowledge
of what they had done. I have no doubt that there were times when my
life hung in the balance. I was confined to my room, terrorized by the
most horrible threats, cruelly ill-used to break my spirit—see this
stab on my shoulder and the bruises from end to end of my arms—and a
gag was thrust into my mouth on the one occasion when I tried to call
from the window. For five days this cruel imprisonment continued, with
hardly enough food to hold body and soul together. This afternoon a
good lunch was brought me, but the moment after I took it I knew that I
had been drugged. In a sort of dream I remember being half-led,
half-carried to the carriage; in the same state I was conveyed to the
train. Only then, when the wheels were almost moving, did I suddenly
realize that my liberty lay in my own hands. I sprang out, they tried
to drag me back, and had it not been for the help of this good man, who
led me to the cab, I should never had broken away. Now, thank God, I
am beyond their power forever."
    We had all listened intently to this remarkable statement. It was
Holmes who broke the silence.
    "Our difficulties are not over," he remarked, shaking his head. "Our
police work ends, but our legal work begins."
    "Exactly," said I. "A plausible lawyer could make it out as an act of
self-defence. There may be a hundred crimes in the background, but it
is only on this one that they can be tried."
    "Come, come," said Baynes cheerily, "I think better of the law than
that. Self-defence is one thing. To entice a man in cold blood with
the object of murdering him is another, whatever danger you may fear
from him. No, no, we shall all be justified when we see the tenants of
High Gable at the next Guildford Assizes."
*
    It is a matter of history, however, that a little time was still to
elapse before the Tiger of San Pedro should meet with his deserts.
Wily and bold, he and his companion threw their pursuer off their track
by entering a lodging-house in Edmonton Street and leaving by the
back-gate into Curzon Square. From that day they were seen no more in
England. Some six months afterwards the Marquess of Montalva and
Signor Rulli, his secretary, were both murdered in their rooms at the
Hotel Escurial at Madrid. The crime was ascribed to Nihilism, and the
murderers were never arrested. Inspector Baynes visited us at Baker
Street with a printed description of the dark face of the secretary,
and of the masterful features, the magnetic black eyes, and the tufted
brows of his master. We could not doubt that justice, if belated, had
come at last.
    "A chaotic case, my dear Watson," said Holmes over an evening pipe. "It
will not be possible for you to present in that compact form which is
dear to your heart. It covers two continents, concerns two groups of
mysterious persons, and is further complicated by the highly
respectable presence of our friend,