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fugitives. When he reached St. Petersburg they had departed
for Paris; and when he followed them there he learned that
they had just set off for Copenhagen. At the Danish capital
he was again a few days late, for they had journeyed on to
London, where he at last succeeded in running them to earth.
As to what occurred there, we cannot do better than quote the
old hunter's own account, as duly recorded in Dr. Watson's
Journal, to which we are already under such obligations.



CHAPTER VI.

A CONTINUATION OF THE REMINISCENCES OF JOHN WATSON, M.D.


OUR prisoner's furious resistance did not apparently indicate
any ferocity in his disposition towards ourselves, for on
finding himself powerless, he smiled in an affable manner,
and expressed his hopes that he had not hurt any of us in the
scuffle. "I guess you're going to take me to the police-station,"
he remarked to Sherlock Holmes. "My cab's at the door.
If you'll loose my legs I'll walk down to it. I'm not so light
to lift as I used to be."

Gregson and Lestrade exchanged glances as if they thought
this proposition rather a bold one; but Holmes at once took
the prisoner at his word, and loosened the towel which we had
bound round his ancles. {23} He rose and stretched his legs,
as though to assure himself that they were free once more.
I remember that I thought to myself, as I eyed him, that I had
seldom seen a more powerfully built man; and his dark
sunburned face bore an expression of determination and energy
which was as formidable as his personal strength.

"If there's a vacant place for a chief of the police,
I reckon you are the man for it," he said, gazing with
undisguised admiration at my fellow-lodger. "The way you
kept on my trail was a caution."

"You had better come with me," said Holmes to the two detectives.

"I can drive you," said Lestrade.

"Good! and Gregson can come inside with me. You too, Doctor,
you have taken an interest in the case and may as well stick
to us."

I assented gladly, and we all descended together. Our
prisoner made no attempt at escape, but stepped calmly into
the cab which had been his, and we followed him. Lestrade
mounted the box, whipped up the horse, and brought us in a
very short time to our destination. We were ushered into a
small chamber where a police Inspector noted down our
prisoner's name and the names of the men with whose murder he
had been charged. The official was a white-faced unemotional
man, who went through his duties in a dull mechanical way.
"The prisoner will be put before the magistrates in the
course of the week," he said; "in the mean time, Mr.
Jefferson Hope, have you anything that you wish to say?
I must warn you that your words will be taken down, and may
be used against you."

"I've got a good deal to say," our prisoner said slowly.
"I want to tell you gentlemen all about it."

"Hadn't you better reserve that for your trial?" asked the

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