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In town the earliest risers were just beginning to look sleepily from
their windows as we drove through the streets of the Surrey side.
Passing down the Waterloo Bridge Road we crossed over the river, and
dashing up Wellington Street wheeled sharply to the right and found
ourselves in Bow Street. Sherlock Holmes was well known to the force,
and the two constables at the door saluted him. One of them held the
horse's head while the other led us in.
"Who is on duty?" asked Holmes.
"Inspector Bradstreet, sir."
"Ah, Bradstreet, how are you?" A tall, stout official had come down
the stone-flagged passage, in a peaked cap and frogged jacket. "I
wish to have a quiet word with you, Bradstreet." "Certainly, Mr.
Holmes. Step into my room here." It was a small, office-like room,
with a huge ledger upon the table, and a telephone projecting from
the wall. The inspector sat down at his desk.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Holmes?"
"I called about that beggarman, Boone--the one who was charged with
being concerned in the disappearance of Mr. Neville St. Clair, of
Lee."
"Yes. He was brought up and remanded for further inquiries."
"So I heard. You have him here?"
"In the cells."
"Is he quiet?"
"Oh, he gives no trouble. But he is a dirty scoundrel."
"Dirty?"
"Yes, it is all we can do to make him wash his hands, and his face is
as black as a tinker's. Well, when once his case has been settled, he
will have a regular prison bath; and I think, if you saw him, you
would agree with me that he needed it."
"I should like to see him very much."
"Would you? That is easily done. Come this way. You can leave your
bag."
"No, I think that I'll take it."
"Very good. Come this way, if you please." He led us down a passage,
opened a barred door, passed down a winding stair, and brought us to
a whitewashed corridor with a line of doors on each side.
"The third on the right is his," said the inspector. "Here it is!" He
quietly shot back a panel in the upper part of the door and glanced
through.
"He is asleep," said he. "You can see him very well."
We both put our eyes to the grating. The prisoner lay with his face
towards us, in a very deep sleep, breathing slowly and heavily. He
was a middle-sized man, coarsely clad as became his calling, with a
coloured shirt protruding through the rent in his tattered coat. He
was, as the inspector had said, extremely dirty, but the grime which
covered his face could not conceal its repulsive ugliness. A broad
wheal from an old scar ran right across it from eye to chin, and by
its contraction had turned up one side of the upper lip, so that
three teeth were exposed in a perpetual snarl. A shock of very bright
red hair grew low over his eyes and forehead.
"He's a beauty, isn't he?" said the inspector.
"He certainly needs a wash," remarked Holmes. "I had an idea that he
might, and I took the liberty of bringing the tools with me." He
opened the Gladstone bag as he spoke, and took out, to my
astonishment, a very large bath-sponge.
"He! he! You are a funny one," chuckled the inspector.
"Now, if you will have the great goodness to open that door very
quietly, we will soon make him cut a much more respectable figure."
"Well, I don't know why not," said the inspector. "He doesn't look a
credit to the Bow Street cells, does he?" He slipped his key into the
lock, and we all very quietly entered the cell. The sleeper half
turned, and then settled down once more into a deep slumber. Holmes
stooped to the water-jug, moistened his sponge, and then rubbed it
twice vigorously across and down the prisoner's face.
"Let me introduce you," he shouted, "to Mr. Neville St. Clair, of
Lee, in the county of Kent."
Never in my life have I seen such a sight. The man's face peeled off
under the sponge like the bark from a tree. Gone was the coarse brown
tint! Gone, too, was the horrid scar which had seamed it across, and
the twisted lip which had given the repulsive sneer to the face! A
twitch brought away the tangled red hair, and there, sitting up in
his bed, was a pale, sad-faced, refined-looking man, black-haired and
smooth-skinned, rubbing his eyes and staring about him with sleepy
bewilderment. Then suddenly realising the exposure, he broke into a