Free Sherlock Holmes and the Giant Rat of Sumatra by Paul D. Gilbert

considerably more successful. I discovered from Lieutenant Harrison that among the more influential missions was the one at Lovedale run by its Scottish Presbyterian principal, the Reverend Joseph Stewart. He was a gruff, though affable gentleman who was most passionate about his work and who genuinely loved the people he was working amongst.
    Over a glass of lemonade on his shaded veranda, Stewart explained to me how it was that Lovedale’s very success had prompted Charlotte to move ever northward, into Matabeleland, where she felt that her efforts and experience would be put to better use. Indeed the opening of the hospital made her feel redundant and, reluctantly, Stewart gave his blessing to her future endeavours.
    Stewart receives regular news of the progress at the new mission and assured me that Charlotte remains in good health and in high spirits. He promised to impart news of my visit to her and I turned my cart towards the Cape once more, with a considerably gladder heart than when I had departed. As it turned out, the day of my return was well-timed, for I arrived at the quayside having had barely sufficient time to gather my belongings from my hotel room. I tumbled aboard the Diomedes only moments before she pushed off.
    As soon as I had stowed my gear, I got to the deck in time to see Table Mountain shrinking into the misty distance and Iturned my gaze towards the Indian Ocean, which was now spread majestically before me. Ignoring the shaking heads and the Greek mutterings of the crew as they contemplated the ‘eccentric Englishman’, I remained on deck until the crimson sun had melted into the vast expanse of sea that lay between me and the culmination of my quest.
    I was on my way to Calcutta!
    Although the letter was by no means near completion, I felt that this was an appropriate juncture to remind my companions that the clock had just announced midnight. Holmes nodded his assent and poured out three cognacs as Collier temporarily folded away his father’s epic letter once again.
    Notes
    ( 1 ) ‘Assegaii’ – a Zulu short stabbing spear
    ( 2 ) ‘Impi’ – a Zulu regiment

CHAPTER FIVE
A J OURNEY TO TH E I SLANDS
    ‘G entlemen,’ cried Collier, suddenly jumping up from his chair and still holding his glass of cognac. ‘I owe you both a thousand apologies for having occupied so much of your time with my concerns.’
    Holmes dismissed these regrets with a wave of his hand and a shake of his head. ‘Finish your drink and calm yourself, Mr Collier. Dr Watson and myself have both been known to keep the most bohemian of hours, from time to time,’ Holmes assured him.
    ‘Is there someone awaiting you who may be concerned at your continued absence?’ I asked.
    ‘No, not at all.’ Collier shook his head, as if ashamed at this admission.
    ‘In that case, should you have no obvious objections, it might be best if you were to remain here overnight,’ I suggested.
    ‘Watson! I was on the point of proposing the very same thing,’ Holmes exclaimed.
    ‘I could not possibly so impose myself,’ Collier protested.
    ‘Nonsense. I shall instruct Mrs Hudson to make up my bed for you, and I shall spend the night in here. I shall not brook any further protest. I have spent more nights in my chair than you might reasonably imagine.’
    So the matter was settled and as I began climbing the stairs uptowards my room, I looked back to see Holmes settling into his favourite chair with an ashtray and a supply of tobacco and vestas by his side.
    It was no surprise, to me at any rate, to find Holmes already dressed and fresher than we were as I came down for breakfast on the following morning. He was already at his usual breakfast of coffee and cigarettes, by the time Collier and I finally emerged.
    ‘Bohemian hours indeed!’ Holmes laughed as he tossed a half-smoked cigarette into his coffee cup. ‘I trust that you will take some of Mrs Hudson’s more than adequate breakfast before