“Yes； I shall not feel easy until I have told my story.”
“Then my servant will call a cab， and I shall be with you in aninstant.” I rushed upstairs， explained the matter shortly to mywife， and in five minutes was inside a hansom， driving with mynew acquaintance to Baker Street.
Sherlock Holmes was， as I expected， lounging about his sittingroomin his dressing-gown， reading the agony column of The Timesand smoking his before-breakfast pipe， which was composed ofall the plugs and dottles left from his smokes of the day before，all carefully dried and collected on the corner of the mantelpiece.
He received us in his quietly genial fashion， ordered fresh rashersand eggs， and joined us in a hearty meal. When it was concludedhe settled our new acquaintance upon the sofa， placed a pillowbeneath his head， and laid a glass of brandy and water within hisreach.
“It is easy to see that your experience has been no common one，Mr. Hatherley，” said he. “Pray， lie down there and make yourselfabsolutely at home. Tell us what you can， but stop when you aretired and keep up your strength with a little stimulant.”
“Thank you，” said my patient. “but I have felt another mansince the doctor bandaged me， and I think that your breakfast hascompleted the cure. I shall take up as little of your valuable timeas possible， so I shall start at once upon my peculiar experiences.”
Holmes sat in his big armchair with the weary， heavy-liddedexpression which veiled his keen and eager nature， while I satopposite to him， and we listened in silence to the strange storywhich our visitor detailed to us.
“You must know，” said he， “that I am an orphan and a bachelor，residing alone in lodgings in London. By profession I am ahydraulic engineer， and I have had considerable experience of mywork during the seven years that I was apprenticed to Venner &Matheson， the well-known firm， of Greenwich. Two years ago，having served my time， and having also come into a fair sum ofmoney through my poor father’s death， I determined to start inbusiness for myself and took professional chambers in VictoriaStreet.
“I suppose that everyone finds his first independent start inbusiness a dreary experience. To me it has been exceptionally so.
During two years I have had three consultations and one smalljob， and that is absolutely all that my profession has brought me.
My gross takings amount to ￡27 10s. Every day， from nine in themorning until four in the afternoon， I waited in my little den， untilat last my heart began to sink， and I came to believe that I shouldnever have any practice at all.
“Yesterday， however， just as I was thinking of leaving the office，my clerk entered to say there was a gentleman waiting who wishedto see me upon business. He brought up a card， too， with thename of ‘Colonel Lysander Stark’ engraved upon it. Close at hisheels came the colonel himself， a man rather over the middlesize， but of an exceeding thinness. I do not think that I have everseen so thin a man. His whole face sharpened away into nose andchin， and the skin of his cheeks was drawn quite tense over hisoutstanding bones. Yet this emaciation seemed to be his naturalhabit， and due to no disease， for his eye was bright， his step brisk，and his bearing assured. He was plainly but neatly dressed， and hisage， I should judge， would be nearer forty than thirty.
“ ‘Mr. Hatherley？’ said he， with something of a German accent.
‘You have been recommended to me， Mr. Hatherley， as beinga man who is not only proficient in his profession but is alsodiscreet and capable of preserving a secret.’
“I bowed， feeling as flattered as any young man would at such anaddress. ‘May I ask who it was who gave me so good a character？’
“ ‘Well， perhaps it is better that I should not tell you that just atthis moment. I have it from the same source that you are both anorphan and a bachelor and are residing alone in London.’
“ ‘That is quite correct，’ I answered； ‘but you will excuse me ifI say that I cannot see how all this bears upon my professionalqualifications. I understand that it was on a professional matterthat you wished to speak to me？’
“ ‘Undoubtedly so. But you will find that all I say is really tothe point. I have a professional commission for you， but absolutesecrecy is quite essential—absolute secrecy， you understand， andof course we may expect that more from a man who is alone thanfrom one who lives in the bosom of his family.’
“ ‘If I promise to keep a secret，’ said I， ‘you may absolutelydepend upon my doing so.’
“He looked very hard at me as I spoke， and it seemed to me thatI had never seen so suspicious and questioning an eye.
“ ‘Do you promise， then？’ said he at last.
“ ‘Yes， I promise.’
“ ‘Absolute and complete silence before， during， and after？ Noreference to the matter at all， either in word or writing？’
“ ‘I have already given you my word.’
“ ‘Very good.’ He suddenly sprang up， and darting like lightningacross the room he flung open the door. The passage outside wasempty.
“ ‘That’s all right，’ said he， coming back. ‘I know that clerks aresometimes curious as to their master’s affairs. Now we can talk insafety.’ He drew up his chair very close to mine and began to stareat me again with the same questioning and thoughtful look.
“A feeling of repulsion， and of something akin to fear had begunto rise within me at the strange antics of this fleshless man. Evenmy dread of losing a client could not restrain me from showing myimpatience.
“ ‘I beg that you will state your business， sir，’ said I； ‘my time isof value.’ Heaven forgive me for that last sentence， but the wordscame to my lips.
“ ‘How would fifty guineas for a night’s work suit you？’ he asked.
“ ‘Most admirably.’
“ ‘I say a night’s work， but an hour’s would be nearer themark. I simply want your opinion about a hydraulic stampingmachine which has got out of gear. If you show us what is wrongwe shall soon set it right ourselves. What do you think of such acommission as that？’
