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"
Such was the remarkable narrative to which I listened on that
April evening -- a narrative which would have been utterly in-
credible to me had it not been confirmed by the actual sight of
the tall, spare figure and the keen, eager face, which I had never
thought to see again. In some manner he had learned of my own
sad bereavement, and his sympathy was shown in his manner
rather than in his words. "Work is the best antidote to sorrow,
my dear Watson," said he; "and I have a piece of work for us
both to-night which, if we can bring it to a successful conclu-
sion, will in itself justify a man's life on this planet." In vain I
begged him to tell me more. "You will hear and see enough
before morning," he answered. "We have three years of the past
to discuss. Let that suffice until half-past nine, when we start
upon the notable adventure of the empty house."
It was indeed like old times when, at that hour, I found myself
seated beside him in a hansom, my revolver in my pocket, and
the thrill of adventure in my heart. Holmes was cold and stern
and silent.


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