Of course, the
meaning of this was obvious. Moriarty had not been alone. A
confederate -- and even that one glance had told me how danger-
ous a man that confederate was -- had kept guard while the
Profcssor had attacked me. From a distance, unseen by me, he
had been a witness of his friend's death and of my escape. He
had waited, and then making his way round to the top of the
cliff, he had endeavoured to succeed where his comrade had
failed.
"I did not take long to think about it, Watson. Again I saw
that grim face look over the cliff, and I knew that it was the
precursor of another stone. I scrambled down on to the path. I
don't think I could have done it in cold blood. It was a hundred
times more difficult than getting up. But I had no time to think of
the danger, for another stone sang past me as I hung by my
hands from the edge of the ledge. Halfway down I slipped, but,
by the blessing of God, I landed, torn and bleeding, upon the
path. I took to my heels, did ten miles over the mountains in the
darkness, and a week later I found myself in Florence, with the
certainty that no one in the world knew what had become of me.
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