The Isle of Devils (51 page)

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Authors: Craig Janacek

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As I was unable to form a coherent word, he must have taken my silence for agreement, and
he
picked up his stride
leaving me in his wake
. I stood rooted to the ground, unsure of what my next action should be
, my nerves worked up to the highest pitch of tension
.

 

She hurried forward to meet me with a face which spoke of her joy.
“Hello, Doctor. I think that I forgot to tell you that you were scintillating last evening.”

 

“Please, Mad
emoiselle
,” I stammered, “I would be named if you would call me by my real honor.”

 

She laughed gaily. “Your wish is my command. What is that your friends call you… a
h
yes, ‘Hamish?’ Tell me, Doctor, the name ‘Hamish’ means ‘James’ in Scottish, does it not?”

 

“Indeed,” I replied, the word catching in my throat.

 

“Then I think that this will be my pet name for you,” she reached out and took my hand in hers. “I will always remember you as my brave James.”

 

I had no reply for this,
and
merely gazed into her green eyes.
I had never known anyone so vitally alive. She lived intensely, every fiber of her being fully participating in her actions.
She smiled back at me. “Oh, poor James, your honest face is twitching with anxiety. You look like a man who wishes to ask a question.”

 

“No,” I stammered, “nothing comes to mind.” I dropped my gaze to the rough wooden planks of the quay.

 

I could sense her smile deepening in the tone of her voice. “You are a poor fibber, James.”

 

I looked up from my inspection of the ground and studied her. “
Perhaps I am
,” I finally replied.
“In fact, I have two.”

 

She raised her eyebrows. “There is no time like the present.”

 

I considered my position. “If you insist.”

 

“I do.”

 

“About Monsieur Dubois…”

 

“Hector?” said she, frowning. “What of him?”

 

“Ah, well, it is just that you shared three nights with him…” I stammered.

 

Her eyebrows rose archly. “Did you count, Doctor?” she replied, smiling impishly.

 

“Well, you see…”

 

She forestalled my discomfiture. “You need not be concerned, James. Hector’s inclinations in such matters lie in a different direction entirely. I assure you that my honor is quite intact. Or, at least, it was, until last night.” Her smile told me that she had no regrets for what had passed between us. “But you said that you had two questions?”

 

“What color glass did you draw on that night? Blue or green?”

 

She pursed her lips and gazed into my eyes. “I see. I had perhaps expected another question.” She nodded her head slowly. “And are you certain that you want to know the answer?”

 

“No,” I shook my head. “I am not.”

 

“Then perhaps it is better not to know. For regardless of the color shard, I was fully prepared to go forward with what was required of me.
And I cannot say that it is likely to weigh very heavily upon my conscience. He was an animal concealed in a human body.
” She hung her head for a moment, and then looked up at me again. “Does that
alter your feelings
toward me?”

 

I searched my soul for an answer and realized that, in fact, I did not care. “No, I do not think that anything could change how I feel about you.
I’m yours to the rattle.

 

As I spoke, a smile erupted on her face that kindled a joy in my soul. “
That is very sweet of you to say.
I am
most
happy to hear that, James.
” She reached into her handbag, and drew forth the ink-stained glove that she had worn during our first walk in the park. “I wish you to have this, as a remembrance and as a gage, for you seem to me like a knight errant of old.
” She pulled my hand to her breast and then leaned in to kiss me on my cheek. As she did so, I breathed in her scent and felt the warmth of her lips. It was a memory that I knew would stay with me for many years to come. A final whisper carried on it the words th
at I had been longing to hear. A great shadow seemed to pass from my soul.

 

Before I could reply in turn, she pulled away. I began to open my mouth, but she raised her fingers to my lips and stilled my voice. “No, James, do not speak. I could not bear to hear it. Know this… I wish that we had met under different circumstances. Your destiny awaits you in London,
where I know that your star will rise high. And
I must return to San Francisco, at least temporarily. But if you ever find yourself in my fair city, I would be most happy if you would call
upon me.
Do not lose heart, James. As a wise man once said, ‘j
ourneys end in lovers meeting
.’ This is not an
adieu
. Instead I will say only
à bientôt
.” She dropped my hand and turned away from me. I watched her
walking briskly down the quay until her vivid scarlet hair was but a speck in the somber distance
. But she ne
ver turned to look at me again. I felt as if a void had been created in my heart, and I wondered how I would possibly fill it.

 

§

 

After Lucy had quitted my vision, Henry quietly rejoined me. He gave me a questioning glance, but otherwise held his peace. We walked the rest of the way to the gangplank in silence. There we were met by a short, thick man with a chinchilla beard growing out of the creases of his double chin, and wearing the typical dress of the English sailor. He was clearly the ship’s purser.

 

I gave him my name, which he checked again a list that he held. Finally locating it, he looked up with a pleasant smile. “Welcome aboard the
Orontes
, Dr. Watson. We will have you on a Portsmouth jetty in less than a month. You will have plenty of time before the holidays and the New Year.”

 

Before I could board, however, Henry enfolded me in a brotherly embrace. Finally stepping back, he allowed me to start up the ramp. When I reached the midway point, I heard his voice call after me one final time. “Whatever shall you do once you get to London, brother?”

 

I turned about to look him in the eyes, and shook my head. “
I shall have to take lodging, though t
o be honest,
Henry,
with my limited funds I suspect that I
may
need to find a roommate.
Given the state of my nerves, s
omeone
studious and
quiet I hope.”

 

 

 

§

 

 

 
 

Postscript:

 

The Fourth of December, 1880

 

 

 

My dear Henry,

 

You will be happy to know that my time onboard
t
he
Orontes
was most pleasant. I spent a considerable time conversing with a new acquaintance, a globetrotter called Sir Montague Brown. He listened to my
adventures upon the Isle of Devils
and encouraged me to set down the facts while they were still quite recent and before my recollections faded. Knowing your passion for fantastic stories, I thought I should entrust you with this extract of reminiscences from my journal, in which you will finally understand what transpired at the Globe Hotel and the reasons for my reticence when we parted. Perhaps inspired by Mr. Tom Moore, who found the climate of Bermuda
so
conducive to writing, this tale has expanded to a length approaching that of a novel. It implicates so many people that, for many years, it will be impossible to make it public without the case becoming a
cause célèbre
. Please keep it safe for me. Perhaps someday, when the principal protagonists have had their frail threads snapped by Clothis, the truth can finally be brought to light. To do so now would be an unthinkable breach of confidence. Until we meet again, brother, I remain, affectionately,

 

 

 

John Hamish Watson, M.D.

Late Army Medical Department

Mailed from Portsmouth, England

 

§

LITERARY AGENT’S NOTES
 

 

 

What are we to make of this remarkable
document
? The sixty unquestioned cases that comprise the Sherlock Holmes Canon
demonstrate
but
four examples of episodes where Holmes solves a case without the assistance of Dr. John H. Watson, two solved before he met Watson (
The “Gloria Scott”
, 1874,
& The Musgrave Ritual
, 1879), and two narrated by Holmes when either Watson had deserted him for a wife (
The Adventure of the Blanched Soldier
, 1903
),
or during Holmes’ retirement upon the Sussex Downs (
The Adventure of the Lion’s Mane
, 1907).

 

However, there are no
known
authentic examples of Watson solving a case without Holmes. The closest thing we have is when Holmes would send Watson to be his representative / understudy on a mission. In 1889, Watson was dispatched to accompany Sir Henry Baskerville to Dartmoor, where he would write up reports of his inquiries to Holmes, who ostensibly remained behind in order to attempt to stop a “disastrous scandal” from occurring in London (Chapters VI through XI,
The Hound of the Baskervilles
). However,
Watson’s activities
w
ere
later revealed to be
intended as
a distraction while Holmes carried out the true investigation from his lair beneath the Vixen Tor. In 1895, Holmes claimed to be too busy with “important research” to investigate the case of Violet Smith, so he sent Watson to observe the facts for himself (
The Adventure of the Solitary Cyclist
). Perhaps the most pure example occurred in 1899 when Holmes was too occupied with the case of the two Coptic Patriarchs to go out to Lewisham himself, so he sent Watson to gather the details of Mr. Josiah Amberley’s house (
The Adventure of the Retired Colourman
). And finally, in 1901 Holmes sent Watson to Lausanne, Switzerland to determine the fate of Lady Frances Carfax, though he failed to trust Watson to accomplish this task himself and followed him in the disguise of a French working-man (
The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax
). However, Watson admits that
during
Holmes absence
known
as
the Great Hiatus
(1891 - 1894)
he attempted “more than once” to solve “various problems which came before the public,” albeit “with indifferent success” (
The Adventure of the Empty House
).

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