“I would not tell them too much,” said Holmes. “Women are never to be entirely trusted—not the best of them.”
I did not pause to argue over this atrocious sentiment. “I shall be back in an hour or two,” I remarked.
“All right! Good luck! But, I say, if you are crossing the river you may as well return Toby, for I don’t think it is at all likely that we shall have any use for him now.”
I took our mongrel accordingly, and left him, together with a half-sovereign, at the old naturalist’s in Pinchin Lane. At Camberwell I found Miss Morstan a little weary after her night’s adventures, but very eager to hear the news. Mrs. Forrester, too, was full of curiosity. I told them all that we had done, suppressing, however, the more dreadful parts of the tragedy. Thus, although I spoke of Mr. Sholto’s death, I said nothing of the exact manner and method of it. With all my omissions, however, there was enough to startle and amaze them.
“It is a romance!” cried Mrs. Forrester. “An injured lady, half a million in treasure, a black cannibal, and a wooden-legged ruffian. They take the place of the conventional dragon or wicked earl.”
“And two knight-errants to the rescue,” added Miss Morstan, with a bright glance at me.
“Why, Mary, your fortune depends upon the issue of this search. I don’t think that you are nearly excited enough. Just imagine what it must be to be so rich, and to have the world at your feet!”
It sent a little thrill of joy to my heart to notice that she showed no sign of elation at the prospect. On the contrary, she gave a toss of her proud head, as though the matter were one in which she took small interest.