more, my man knew he was comin’, for he had steam up in the launch. I tell you straight, sir, I don’t feel easy in my mind about it.”
“But, my dear Mrs. Smith,” said Holmes, shrugging his shoulders, “You are frightening yourself about nothing. How could you possibly tell that it was the wooden-legged man who came in the night? I don’t quite understand how you can be so sure.”
“His voice, sir. I knew his voice, which is kind o’ thick and foggy. He tapped at the winder—about three it would be. ‘Show a leg, matey,’ says he: ‘time to turn out guard.’ My old man woke up Jim—that’s my eldest—and away they went, without so much as a word to me. I could hear the wooden leg clackin’ on the stones.”
“And was this wooden-legged man alone?”
“Couldn’t say, I am sure, sir. I didn’t hear no one else.”
“I am sorry, Mrs. Smith, for I wanted a steam launch, and I have heard good reports of the—Let me see, what is her name?”
“The Aurora , sir.”
“Ah! She’s not that old green launch with a yellow line, very broad in the beam?”
“No, indeed. She’s as trim a little thing as any on the river. She’s been fresh painted, black with two red streaks.”
“Thanks. I hope that you will hear soon from Mr. Smith. I am going down the river; and if I should see anything of the Aurora I shall let him know that you are uneasy. A black funnel, you say?”
“No, sir. Black with a white band.”