Holmes rubbed his hands, and his eyes glistened. He leaned
forward in his chair with an expression of extraordinary
concentration upon his clear-cut, hawklike features. "State your
case," said he, in brisk, business tones.

I felt that my position was an embarrassing one. "You will, I am
sure, excuse me," I said, rising from my chair.

To my surprise, the young lady held up her gloved hand to detain
me. "If your friend," she said, "would be good enough to stop,
he might be of inestimable service to me."

I relapsed into my chair.

"Briefly," she continued, "the facts are these. My father was an
officer in an Indian regiment who sent me home when I was quite a
child. My mother was dead, and I had no relative in England. I
was placed, however, in a comfortable boarding establishment at
Edinburgh, and there I remained until I was seventeen years of
age. In the year 1878 my father, who was senior captain of his
regiment, obtained twelve months' leave and came home. He
telegraphed to me from London that he had arrived all safe, and
directed me to come down at once, giving the Langham Hotel as his
address. His message, as I remember, was full of kindness and
love. On reaching London I drove to the Langham, and was
informed that Captain Morstan was staying there, but that he had
gone out the night before and had not yet returned. I waited all
day without news of him. That night, on the advice of the
manager of the hotel, I communicated with the police, and next