iger-skins thrown athwart
it increased the suggestion of Eastern luxury, as did a huge hookah
which stood upon a mat in the corner. A lamp in the fashion of a
silver dove was hung from an almost invisible golden wire in the centre
of the room. As it burned it filled the air with a subtle and aromatic
odor.

"Mr. Thaddeus Sholto," said the little man, still jerking and smiling.
"That is my name. You are Miss Morstan, of course. And these
gentlemen--"

"This is Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and this is Dr. Watson."

"A doctor, eh?" cried he, much excited. "Have you your stethoscope?
Might I ask you--would you have the kindness? I have grave doubts as
to my mitral valve, if you would be so very good. The aortic I may
rely upon, but I should value your opinion upon the mitral."

I listened to his heart, as requested, but was unable to find anything
amiss, save indeed that he was in an ecstasy of fear, for he shivered
from head to foot. "It appears to be normal," I said. "You have no
cause for uneasiness."

"You will excuse my anxiety, Miss Morstan," he remarked, airily. "I am
a great sufferer, and I have long had suspicions as to that valve. I
am delighted to hear that they are unwarranted. Had your father, Miss
Morstan, refrained from throwing a strain upon his heart, he might have
been alive now."

I could have struck the man across the face, so hot was I at this
callous and off-hand reference to so delicate a matter. Miss Morstan
sat down, and her face grew white to the lips. "I knew in my heart
that he was dead," said she.

"I can give you every information," said he, "and, what is more, I can
do you justice; and I will, too, whatever Brother Bartholomew may say.
I am so glad to have your friends here, not only as an escort to you,
but also as witnesses to what I am about to do and say. The three of
us can show a bold front to Brother Bartholomew. But let us have no
outsiders,--no police or officials. We can settle everything
satisfactorily among ourselves, without any interference. Nothing
would annoy Brother Bartholomew more than any publicity." He sat down
upon a low settee and blinked at us inquiringly with his weak, watery
blue eyes.

"For my part," said Holmes, "whatever you may choose to say will go no
further."

I nodded to show my agreement.

"That is well! That is well!" said he. "May I offer you a glass of
Chianti, Miss Morstan? Or of Tokay? I keep no other wines. Shall I
open a fla