“Who is this person? What does he want? Dear me, Staples, how often have I said that I am not to be disturbed in my hours of study?”

There came a gentle flow of soothing explanation from the butler.

“Well, I won’t see him, Staples. I can’t have my work interrupted like this. I am not at home. Say so. Tell him to come in the morning if he really must see me.”

Again the gentle murmur.

“Well, well, give him that message. He can come in the morning, or he can stay away. My work must not be hindered.”

I thought of Holmes tossing upon his bed of sickness and counting the minutes, perhaps, until I could bring help to him. It was not a time to stand upon ceremony. His life depended upon my promptness. Before the apologetic butler had delivered his message I had pushed past him and was in the room.