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DarqueDante
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test2

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"At half-wages, in fact."
"Yes."
"What is he like, this Vincent Spaulding?"
"Small, stout-built, very quick in his ways, no hair on his face,
though he's not short of thirty. Has a white splash of acid upon his
forehead."
Holmes sat up in his chair in considerable excitement. "I thought as
much," said he. "Have you ever observed that his ears are pierced for
earrings?"
"Yes, sir. He told me that a gipsy had done it for him when he was a
lad."
"Hum!" said Holmes, sinking back in deep thought. "He is still with
you?"
"Oh, yes, sir; I have only just left him."
"And has your business been attended to in your absence?"
"Nothing to complain of, sir. There's never very much to do of a
morning."
"That will do, Mr. Wilson. I shall be happy to give you an opinion
upon the subject in the course of a day or two. To-day is Saturday,
and I hope that by Monday we may come to a conclusion."
"Well, Watson," said Holmes when our visitor had left us, "what do
you make of it all?"
"I make nothing of it," I answered frankly. "It is a most mysterious
business."
"As a rule," said Holmes, "the more bizarre a thing is the less
mysterious it proves to be. It is your commonplace, featureless
crimes which are really puzzling, just as a commonplace face is the
most difficult to identify. But I must be prompt over this matter."
"What are you going to do, then?" I asked.
"To smoke," he answered. "It is quite a three pipe problem, and I beg
that you won't speak to me for fifty minutes." He curled himself up
in his chair, with his thin knees drawn up to his hawk-like nose, and
there he sat with his eyes closed and his black clay pipe thrusting
out like the bill of some strange bird. I had come to the conclusion
that he had dropped asleep, and indeed was nodding myself, when he
suddenly sprang out of his chair with the gesture of a man who has
made up his mind and put his pipe down upon the mantelpiece.
"Sarasate plays at the St. James's Hall this afternoon," he remarked.
"What do you think, Watson? Could your patients spare you for a few
hours?"
"I have nothing to do to-day. My practice is never very absorbing."
"Then put on your hat and come. I am going through the City first,
and we can have some lunch on the way. I observe that there is a good
deal of German music on the programme, which is rather more to my
taste than Italian or French. It is introspective, and I want to
introspect. Come along!"
We travelled by the Underground as far as Aldersgate; and a short
walk took us to Saxe-Coburg Square, the scene of the singular story
which we had listened to in the morning. It was a poky, little,
shabby-genteel place, where four lines of dingy two-storied brick
houses looked out into a small railed-in enclosure, where a lawn of
weedy grass and a few clumps of faded laurel-bushes made a hard fight
against a smoke-laden and uncongenial atmosphere. Three gilt balls
and a brown board with "Jabez Wilson" in white letters, upon a corner
house, announced the place where our red-headed client carried on his
business. Sherlock Holmes stopped in front of it with his head on one
side and looked it all over, with his eyes shining brightly between
puckered lids. Then he walked slowly up the street, and then down
again to the corner, still looking keenly at the houses. Finally he
returned to the pawnbroker's, and, having thumped vigorously upon the
pavement with his stick two or three times, he went up to the door
and knocked. It was instantly opened by a bright-looking,
clean-shaven young fellow, who asked him to step in.
"Thank you," said Holmes, "I only wished to ask you how you would go
from here to the Strand."
"Third right, fourth left," answered the assistant promptly, closing
the door.
"Smart fellow, that," observed Holmes as we walked away. "He is, in
my judgment, the fourth smartest man in London, and for daring I am
not sure that he has not a claim to be third. I have known something
of him before."
"Evidently," said I, "Mr. Wilson's assistant counts for a good deal
in this mystery of the Red-headed League. I am sure that you inquired
your way merely in order that you might see him."
"Not him."