the spray spouting up all around me. It had darkened
since I left, and now I could only see here and there the glistening of
moisture upon the black walls, and far away down at the end of the shaft
the gleam of the broken water. I shouted; but only the same half-human
cry of the fall was borne back to my ears.

But it was destined that I should after all have a last word of greeting
from my friend and comrade. I have said that his Alpine-stock had been
left leaning against a rock which jutted on to the path. From the top of
this bowlder the gleam of something bright caught my eye, and, raising
my hand, I found that it came from the silver cigarette-case which he
used to carry. As I took it up a small square of paper upon which it
had lain fluttered down on to the ground. Unfolding it, I found that it
consisted of three pages torn from his note-book and addressed to me. It
was characteristic of the man that the direction was a precise, and the
writing as firm and clear, as though it had been written in his study.

My dear Watson [it said], I write these few lines through the courtesy
of Mr. Moriarty, who awaits my convenience for the final discussion of
those questions which lie between us. He has been giving me a sketch
of the methods by which he avoided the English police and kept himself
informed of our movements. They certainly confirm the very high opinion
which I had formed of his abilities. I am pleased to think that I shall
be able to free society from any further effects of his presence, though
I fear that it is at a cost which will give pain to my friends, and
especially, my dear Watson, to you. I have already explained to you,
however, that my career had in any case reached its crisis, and that
no possible conclusion to it could be more congenial to me than this.
Indeed, if I may make a full confession to you, I was quite convinced
that the letter from Meiringen was a hoax, and I allowed you to depart
on that errand under the persuasion that some development of this sort
would follow. Tell Inspector Patterson that the papers which he needs
to convict the gang are in pigeonhole M., done up in a blue envelope
and inscribed "Moriarty." I made every disposition of my property before
leaving England, and handed it to my brother Mycroft. Pray give my
greetings to Mrs. Watson, and believe me to be, my dear fellow,

Very sincerely yours,

Sherlock Holmes

A few words may suffice to tell the little that remains.