"A Russian nobleman who is now resident in England [it
    runs], would be glad to avail himself of the professional
    assistance of Dr. Percy Trevelyan. He has been for some
    years a victim to cataleptic attacks, on which, as is well
    known, Dr. Trevelyan is an authority. He proposes to call at
    about a quarter-past six to-morrow evening, if Dr. Trevelyan
    will make it convenient to be at home.

  "This letter interested me deeply, because the chief difficulty
in the study of catalepsy is the rareness of the disease. You may
believe, then, that I was in my consulting-room when, at the
appointed hour, the page showed in the patient.
  "He was an elderly man, thin, demure, and commonplace -- by
no means the conception one forms of a Russian nobleman. I
was much more struck by the appearance of his companion. This
was a tall young man, surprisingly handsome, with a dark, fierce
face, and the limbs and chest of a Hercules. He had his hand
under the other's arm as they entered, and helped him to a chair
with a tenderness which one would hardly have expected from
his appearance.
  " 'You will excuse my coming in, Doctor,' said he to me,
speaking English with a slight lisp. 'This is my father, and his
health is a matter of the most overwhelming importance to me.'
  "I was touched by this filial anxiety. 'You would, perhaps,
care to remain during the consultation?' said I.
  " 'Not for the world,' he cried with a gesture of horror. 'It is
more painful to me than I can express. If I were to see my father
in one of these dreadful seizures I am convinced that I should
never survive it. My own nervous system is an exceptionally
sensitive one. With your permission, I will remain in the waiting-
room while you go into my father's case.'
  "To this, of course, I assented, and the young man withdrew.
The patient and I then plunged into a discussion of his case, of
which I took exhaustive notes. He was not remarkable for intelli-
gence, and his answers were frequently obscure, which I attrib-
uted to his limited acquaintance with our language. Suddenly,
however, as I sat writing, he ceased to give any answer at all to
my inquiries, and on my turning towards him I was shocked to
see that he was sitting bolt upright in his chair, staring at me with
a perfectly blank and rigid face. He was again in the grip of his
mysterious malady.
  "My first feeling, as I have just said, was one of pity and
horror. My second, I fear, was rather one of professional satis-
faction. I made notes of my patient's pulse and temperature,
tested the rigidity of his muscles. and examined his reflexes.
There was nothing markedly abnormal in any of these condi-
tions, which harmonized with my former experiences. I had
obtained good results in such cases by the inhalation of nitrite of
amyl, and the present seemed an admirable opportunity of
testing its virtues. The bottle was downstairs in my laboratory,
so, leaving my patient seated in his chair, I ran down to get it.
There was some little delay in finding it -- five minutes, let us
say -- and then I returned. Imagine my amazement to find the
room empty and the patient gone.
  "Of course, my first act was to run into the waiting-room.
The son had gone also. The hall door had been closed, but not
shut. My page who admits patients is a new boy and by no
means quick. He waits downstairs and runs up to show patients
out when I ring the consulting-room bell. He had heard nothing,
and the affair remained a complete mystery. Mr. Blessington
came in from his walk shortly afterwards, but I did not say
anything to him upon the subject, for, to tell the truth, I have got
in the way of late of holding as little communication with him as
possible.
  "Well, I never thought that I should see anything more of the
Russian and his son, so you can imagine my amazement when,
at the very same hour this evening, they both came marching
into my consulting-room, just as they had done before.
  " 'I feel that I owe you a great many apologies for my abrupt
departure yesterday, Doctor,' said my patient.
  " 'I confess that I was very much surprised at it,' said I.
  " 'Well, the fact is,' he remarked, 'that when I recover from
these attacks my mind is always very clouded as to all that has
gone before. I woke up in a strange room, as it seemed to me,
and made my way out into the street in a sort of dazed way when
you were absent.'
  " 'And I,' said the son, 'seeing my father pass the door of the
waiting-room, naturally thought that the consultation had come
to an end. It was not until we had reached home that I began to
realize the true state of affairs.'
  " 'Well,' said I, laughing, 'there is no harm done except that
you puzzled me terribly; so if you, sir, would kindly step into the
waiting-room I shall be happy to continue our consultation which
was brought to so abrupt an ending.'
  "For half an hour or so I discussed the old gentleman's
symptoms with him, and then, having prescribed for him, I saw
him go off upon the arm of his son.
  "I have told you that Mr. Blessington generally chose this
hour of the day for his exercise. He came in shortly afterwards
and passed upstairs. An instant later I heard him running down,
and he burst into my consulting-room like a man who is mad
with panic.
  " 'Who has been in my room?' he cried.
  " 'No one,' said I.
  " 'It's a lie!' he yelled. 'Come up and look!'
  "I passed over the grossness of his language, as he seemed
half out of his mind with fear. When I went upstairs with him he
pointed to several footprints upon the light carpet.
  " 'Do you mean to say those are mine?' he cried.
  "They were certainly very much larger than any which he
could have made, and were evidently quite fresh. It rained hard
this afternoon, as you know, and my patients were the only
people who called. It must have been the case, then, that the
man in the waiting-room had, for some unknown reason, while I
was busy with the other, ascended to the room of my resident
patient. Nothing had been touched or taken, but there were the
footprints to prove that the intrusion was an undoubted fact.
  "Mr. Blessington seemed more excited over the matter than I
should have thought possible, though of course it was enough to
disturb anybody's peace of mind. He actually sat crying in an
armchair, and I could hardly get him to speak coherently. It was
his suggestion that I should come round to you, and of course I
at once saw the propriety of it, for certainly the incident is a very
singular one, though he appears to completely overrate its impor-
tance. If you would only come back with me in my brougham,
you would at least be able to soothe him, though I can hardly
hope that you will be able to explain this remarkable occurrence."
  Sherlock Holmes had listened to this long narrative with an
intentness which showed me that his interest was keenly aroused.
His face was as impassive as ever, but his lids had drooped more
heavily over his eyes, and his smoke had curled up more thickly
from his pipe to emphasize each curious episode in the doctor's
tale. As our visitor concluded, Holmes sprang up without a
word, handed me my hat, picked his own from the table, and
followed Dr. Trevelyan to the door. Within a quarter of an hour
we had been dropped at the door of the physician's residence in
Brook Street, one of those sombre, flat-faced houses which one
associates with a West End practice. A small page admitted us,
and we began at once to ascend the broad, well-carpeted stair.
  But a singular interruption brought us to a standstill. The light
at the top was suddenly whisked out, and from the darkness
came a reedy, quavering voice.
  "I have a pistol," it cried. "I give you my word that I'll fire
if you come any nearer."
  "This really grows outrageous, Mr. Blessington," cried Dr.
Trevelyan .
  "Oh, then it is you, Doctor." said the voice with a great
heave of relief. "But those other gentlemen. are they what they
pretend to be ?"
  We were conscious of a long scrutiny out of the darkness.
  "Yes, yes, it's all right," said the voice at last. "You can
come up, and I am sorry if my precautions have annoyed you."
  He relit the stair gas as he spoke, and we saw before us a
singular-looking man, whose appearance, as well as his voice,
testified to his jangled nerves. He was very fat, but had appar-
ently at some time been much fatter, so that the skin hung about
his face in loose pouches, like the cheeks of a bloodhound. He
was of a sickly colour, and his thin, sandy hair seemed to bristle
up with the intensity of his emotion. In his hand he held a pistol,
but he thrust it into his pocket as we advanced.
  "Good-evening, Mr. Holmes," said he. "I am sure I am very
much obliged to you for coming round. No one ever needed your
advice more than I do. I suppose that Dr. Trevelyan has told you
of this most unwarrantable intrusion into my rooms."
  "Quite so," said Holmes. "Who are these two men, Mr.
Blessington, and why do they wish to molest you?"
  "Well, well," said the resident patient in a nervous fashion,
"of course it is hard to say that. You can hardly expect me to
answer that, Mr. Holmes."
  "Do you mean that you don't know?"
  "Come in here, if you please. Just have the kindness to step in
here."
  He led the way into his bedroom, which was large and com-
fortably furnished.
  "You see that," said he, pointing to a big black box at the
end of his bed. "I have never been a very rich man, Mr.
Holmes -- never made but one investment in my life, as Dr.
Trevelyan would tell you. But I don't believe in bankers. I
would never trust a banker, Mr. Holmes. Between ourselves,
what little I have is in that box, so you can understand what it
means to me when unknown people force themselves into my
rooms."
  Holmes looked at Blessington in his questioning way and
shook his head.
  "I cannot possibly advise you if you try to deceive me," said
he.
  "But I have told you everything."
  Holmes turned on his heel with a gesture of disgust. "Good-
night, Dr. Trevelyan," said he.
  "And no advice for me?" cried Blessington in a breaking
voice.
  "My advice to you, sir, is to speak the truth."
  A minute later we were in the street and walking for home.
We had crossed Oxford Street and were halfway down Harley
Street before I could get a word from my companion.
  "Sorry to bring you out on such a fool's errand, Watson," he
said at last. "It is an interesting case, too, at the bottom of it."
  "I can make little of it," I confessed.
  "Well, it is quite evident that there are two men -- more
perhaps, but at least two -- who are determined for some reason
to get at this fellow Blessington. I have no doubt in my mind that
both on the first and on the second occasion that young man
penetrated to Blessington's room, while his confederate, by an
ingenious device, kept the doctor from interfering."
  "And the catalepsy?"
  "A fraudulent imitation, Watson, though I should hardly dare
to hint as much to our specialist. It is a very easy complaint to
imitate. I have done it myself."
  "And then?"
  "By the purest chance Blessington was out on each occasion.
Their reason for choosing so unusual an hour for a consultation
was obviously to insure that there should be no other patient in
the waiting-room. It just happened, however, that this hour
coincided with Blessington's constitutional, which seems to show
that they were not very well acquainted with his daily routine. Of
course, if they had been merely after plunder they would at least
have made some attempt to search for it. Besides, I can read in a
man's eye when it is his own skin that he is frightened for. It is
inconceivable that this fellow could have made two such vindic-
tive enemies as these appear to be without knowing of it. I hold
it, therefore, to be certain that he does know who these men are,
and that for reasons of his own he suppresses it. It is just
possible that to-morrow may find him in a more communicative
mood. "
  "Is there not one alternative," I suggested, "grotesquely im-
probable, no doubt, but still just conceivable? Might the whole
story of the cataleptic Russian and his son be a concoction of Dr.
Trevelyan's, who has, for his own purposes, been in Blessington's
rooms?"
  I saw in the gas-light that Holmes wore an amused smile at
this brilliant departure of mine.
  "My dear fellow," said he, "it was one of the first solutions
which occurred to me, but I was soon able to corroborate the
doctor's tale. This young man has left prints upon the stair-carpet
which made it quite superfluous for me to ask to see those which
he had made in the room. When I tell you that his shoes were
square-toed instead of being pointed like Blessington's, and were
quite an inch and a third longer than the doctor's, you will
acknowledge that there can be no doubt as to his individuality.
But we may sleep on it now, for I shall be surprised if we do not
hear something further from Brook Street in the morning."

  Sherlock Holmes's prophecy was soon fulfilled, and in a
dramatic fashion. At half-past seven next morning, in the first
dim glimmer of daylight, I found him standing by my bedside in
hls dressing-gown.
  "There's a brougham waiting for us, Watson," said he.
  "What's the matter, then?"
  "The Brook Street business."
  "Any fresh news?"
  "Tragic, but ambiguous," said he, pulling up the blind. "Look
at this -- a sheet from a notebook, with 'For God's sake come at
once. P. T.,' scrawled upon it in pencil. Our friend, the doctor,
was hard put to it when he wrote this. Come along, my dear
fellow, for it's an urgent call."
  In a quarter of an hour or so we were back at the physician's
house. He came running out to meet us with a face of horror.
  "Oh, such a business!" he cried with his hands to his temples.
  "What then?"
  "Blessington has committed suicide!"
  Holmes whistled.
  "Yes, he hanged himself during the night."
  We had entered, and the doctor had preceded us into what was
evidently his waiting-room.
  "I really hardly know what I am doing," he cried. "The
police are already upstairs. It has shaken me most dreadfully."
  "When did you find it out?"
  "He has a cup of tea taken in to him early every morning.
When the maid entered, about seven, there the unfortunate fellow
was hanging in the middle of the room. He had tied his cord to
the hook on which the heavy lamp used to hang, and he had
jumped off from the top of the very box that he showed us
yesterday."
  Holmes stood for a moment in deep thought.
  "With your permission," said he at last, "I should like to go
upstairs and look into the matter."
  We both ascended, followed by the doctor.
  It was a dreadful sight which met us as we entered the
bedroom door. I have spoken of the impression of flabbiness
which this man Blessington conveyed. As he dangled from the
hook it was exaggerated and intensified until he was scarce
human in his appearance. The neck was drawn out like a plucked
chicken's, making the rest of him seem the more obese and
unnatural by the contrast. He was clad only in his long night-
dress, and his swollen ankles and ungainly feet protruded starkly
from beneath it. Beside him stood a smart-looking police-inspector,
who was taking notes in a pocketbook
  "Ah, Mr. Holmes," said he heartily as my friend entered, "I
am delighted to see you."
  "Good-morning, Lanner," answered Holmes, "you won't think
me an intruder, I am sure. Have you heard of the events which
led up to this affair?"
  "Yes, I heard something of them."
  "Have you formed any opinion?"
  "As far as I can see, the man has been driven out of his senses
by fright. The bed has been well slept in, you see. There's his
impression, deep enough. It's about five in the morning, you
know, that suicides are most common. That would be about his
time for hanging himself. It seems to have been a very deliberate
affair."
  "I should say that he has been dead about three hours, judging
by the rigidity of the muscles," said I.
  "Noticed anything peculiar about the room?" asked Holmes.
  "Found a screw-driver and some screws on the wash-hand
stand. Seems to have smoked heavily during the night, too. Here
are four cigar-ends that I picked out of the fireplace."
  "Hum!" said Holmes, "have you got his cigar-holder?"
  "No, I have seen none."
  "His cigar-case, then?"
  "Yes, it was in his coat-pocket."
  Holmes opened it and smelled the single cigar which it
contained.
  "Oh, this is a Havana, and these others are cigars of the
peculiar sort which are imported by the Dutch from their East
Indian colonies. They are usually wrapped in straw, you know,
and are thinner for their length than any other brand." He picked
up the four ends and examined them with his pocket-lens.
  "Two of these have been smoked from a holder and two
without," said he. "Two have been cut by a not very sharp
knife, and two have had the ends bitten off by a set of excellent
teeth. This is no suicide, Mr. Lanner. It is a very deeply planned
and cold-blooded murder."
  "Impossible!" cried the inspector.
  "And why?"
  "Why should anyone murder a man in so clumsy a fashion as
by hanging him?"
  "That is what we have to find out."
  "How could they get in?"
  "Through the front door."
  "It was barred in the morning."
  "Then it was barred after them."
  "How do you know?"
  "I saw their traces. Excuse me a moment, and I may be able
to give you some further information about it."
  He went over to the door, and turning the lock he examined it
in his methodical way. Then he took out the key, which was on
the inside. and inspected that also. The bed, the carpet, the
chairs, the mantelpiece, the dead body, and the rope were each
in turn examined, until at last he professed himself satisfied, and
with my aid and that of the inspector cut down the wretched
object and laid it reverently under a sheet.
  "How about this rope?" he asked.
  "It is cut off this," said Dr. Trevelyan, drawing a large coil
from under the bed. "He was morbidly nervous of fire, and
always kept this beside him, so that he might escape by the
window in case the stairs were burning."
  "That must have saved them trouble," said Holmes thought-
fully. "Yes, the actual facts are very plain, and I shall be
surprised if by the afternoon I cannot give you the reasons for
them as well. I will take this photograph of Blessington, which I
see upon the mantelpiece, as it may help me in my inquiries."
  "But you have told us nothing!" cried the doctor.
  "Oh, there can be no doubt as to the sequence of events,"
said Holmes. "There were three of them in it: the young man,
the old man, and a third, to whose identity I have no clue. The
first two, I need hardly remark, are the same who masqueraded
as the Russian count and his son, so we can give a very full
description of them. They were admitted by a confederate inside
the house. If I might offer you a word of advice. Inspector, it
would be to arrest the page. who, as I understand, has only
recently come into your service, Doctor."
  "The young imp cannot be found," said Dr. Trevelyan; "the
maid and the cook have just been searching for him."
  Holmes shrugged his shoulders.
  "He has played a not unimportant part in this drama," said
he. "The three men having ascended the stairs, which they did
on tiptoe, the elder man first, the younger man second, and the
unknown man in the rear --"
  "My dear Holmes!" I ejaculated.
  "Oh, there could be no question as to the superimposing of
the footmarks. I had the advantage of learning which was which
last night. They ascended, then, to Mr. Blessington's room, the
door of which they found to be locked. With the help of a wire,
however, they forced round the key. Even without the lens you
will perceive, by the scratches on this ward, where the pressure
was applied.
  "On entering the room their first proceeding must have been
to gag Mr. Blessington. He may have been asleep, or he may
have been so paralyzed with terror as to have been unable to cry
out. These walls are thick, and it is conceivable that his shriek, if
he had time to utter one, was unheard.
  "Having secured him, it is evident to me that a consultation of
some sort was held. Probably it was something in the nature of a
judicial proceeding. It must have lasted for some time, for it was
then that these cigars were smoked. The older man sat in that
wicker chair; it was he who used the cigar-holder. The younger
man sat over yonder; he knocked his ash off against the chest of
drawers. The third follow paced up and down. Blessington, I
think, sat upright in the bed, but of that I cannot be absolutely
certain.
  "Well, it ended by their taking Blessington and hanging him.
The matter was so prearranged that it is my belief that they
brought with them some sort of block or pulley which might
serve as a gallows. That screw-driver and those screws were, as I
conceive, for fixing it up. Seeing the hook, however, they
naturally saved themselves the trouble. Having finished their
work they made off, and the door was barred behind them by
their confederate."
  We had all listened with the deepest interest to this sketch of
the night's doings, which Holmes had deduced from signs so
subtle and minute that, even when he had pointed them out to us,
we could scarcely follow him in his reasonings. The inspector
hurried away on thc instant to make inquiries about the page.
while Holmes and I returned to Baker Street for breakfast.
  "I'll be back by three," said he when we had finished our
meal. "Both the inspector and the doctor will meet me here at
that hour, and I hope by that time to have cleared up any little
obscurity which the case may still present."
  Our visitors arrived at the appointed time, but it was a quarter
to four before my friend put in an appearance. From his expres-
sion as he entered, however, I could see that all had gone well
with him.
  "Any news, Inspector?"
  "We have got the boy, sir."
  "Excellent, and I have got the men."
  "You have got them!" we cried, all three.
  "Well, at least I have got their identity. This so-called
Blessington is, as I expected, well known at headquarters, and so
are his assailants. Their names are Biddle, Hayward, and Moffat."
  "The Worthingdon bank gang," cried the inspector.
  "Precisely," said Holmes.
  "Then Blessington must have been Sutton."
  "Exactly," said Holmes.
  "Why, that makes it as clear as crystal," said the inspector.
  But Trevelyan and I looked at each other in bewilderment.
  "You must surely remember the great Worthingdon bank
business," said Holmes. "Five men were in it -- these four and a
fifth called Cartwright. Tobin, the caretaker, was murdered, and
the thieves got away with seven thousand pounds. This was in
1875. They were all five arrested, but the evidence against them
was by no means conclusive. This Blessington or Sutton, who
was the worst of the gang, turned informer. On his evidence
Cartwright was hanged and the other three got fifteen years
apiece. When they got out the other day, which was some years
before their full term, they set themselves, as you perceive, to
hunt down the traitor and to avenge the death of their comrade
upon him. Twice they tried to get at him and failed; a third time
you see, it came off. Is there anything further which I can
explain, Dr. Trevelyan?"
  "I think you have made it all remarkably clear," said the
doctor. "No doubt the day on which he was so perturbed was the
day when he had seen of their release in the newspapers."
  "Quite so. His talk about a burglary was the merest blind."
  "But why could he not tell you this?"
  "Well, my dear sir, knowing the vindictive character of his
old associates, he was trying to hide his own identity from
everybody as long as he could. His secret was a shameful one
and he could not bring himself to divulge it. However, wretch as
he was, he was still living under the shield of British law, and I
have no doubt, Inspector, that you will see that, though that
shield may fail to guard, the sword of justice is still there to
avenge."
  Such were the singular circumstances in connection with the
Resident Patient and the Brook Street Doctor. From that night
nothing has been seen of the three murderers by the police, and it
is surmised at Scotland Yard that they were among the passen-
gers of the ill-fated steamer Norah Creina, which was lost some
years ago with all hands upon the Portuguese coast, some leagues
to the north of Oporto. The proceedings against the page broke
down for want of evidence, and the Brook Street Mystery, as it
was called, has never until now been fully dealt with in any
public print.