"Where is he going?" Sir Henry asked, looking through the window at his cousin, who was decisively marching towards the gates. In the folds of his sleeves and near his collar, the dried algae crunched, and clay had covered his pant legs as if he were wearing knee socks, but Stapleton was obviously not paying any attention to such trifles. "If he has truly decided to head to Merripit House, I…"
He clenched his fists.
"Do not worry, Sir Henry," Holmes uttered. He was the only person among those who were present who did not get up from the table and walk over to the window, so as to observe the departure of the would-be assassin. "He will walk in another direction."
"How do you know?" Henry asked in surprise.
"He will go in that direction, once he steps outside the gate," Holmes waved his hand.
"He...how did you guess, Holmes?" exclaimed Watson, when Stapleton stepped outside the gates.
"Coombe Tracy is in that direction," Holmes elucidated.
"Laura?" Sir Charles asked, astonished. "You believe that she will go with him?"
Holmes was silent for a minute, all his attention on filling his pipe.
"After the person, who, only by a miracle, avoided the shackles and the Grimpen mire, will come to her first thing…" he said slowly. "...After that-yes, I think she will travel with him."
