In the morning I found Holmes pacing back and forth in front of the mantelpiece, smoking a pipe and muttering "This afternoon..."
"Holmes?" I asked.
"Our appointment, of course. With Moriarty." Holmes was grim and deep in thought.
Ana stirred on the couch and sat up, blinking. "'Morning..." she muttered. "Where's breakfast?"
Holmes gave an impatient wave of the hand. Ana grunted and stood, tripped over the rug, and stumbled towards the table. She found some left over toast from Holmes' breakfast and sat to eat it.
"Well, Watson. Are you up to joining me for our meeting with evil?"
"Certainly! Will we go in costume?"
"No, no. Moriarty would see through that at once! He already knows who we are. This is what we found in the safe last night." Holmes handed me a slip of paper, on which was written: WE MEET AGAIN, MR. HOLMES.
"Oh dear." I said. "You're going even though he knows you're coming?"
Holmes went back to smoking his pipe. "We'll leave at half past three. You have your army revolver, I believe?"
Half past three came surprisingly quick, and I found my revolver and put it in my pocket. Holmes shrugged into his best jacket and found his top hat.
"Ana, put the knife back," he said disgustedly.
"But...!"
"Put it back. You're not coming."
"What?" Ana sounded angry and incredulous.
"It's far too dangerous. You'll stay here. Are you ready Watson? Come." Holmes walked towards the door.
"You can't do this!" Ana yelled. "You don't understand! Moriarty - he's my -"
Holmes slammed the door in her face, adjusted his collar, and led the way down the stairs. I gave one fearful glance backwards. It sounded as though a knife had been thrown into the door.
"Holmes?" I asked.
"Our appointment, of course. With Moriarty." Holmes was grim and deep in thought.
Ana stirred on the couch and sat up, blinking. "'Morning..." she muttered. "Where's breakfast?"
Holmes gave an impatient wave of the hand. Ana grunted and stood, tripped over the rug, and stumbled towards the table. She found some left over toast from Holmes' breakfast and sat to eat it.
"Well, Watson. Are you up to joining me for our meeting with evil?"
"Certainly! Will we go in costume?"
"No, no. Moriarty would see through that at once! He already knows who we are. This is what we found in the safe last night." Holmes handed me a slip of paper, on which was written: WE MEET AGAIN, MR. HOLMES.
"Oh dear." I said. "You're going even though he knows you're coming?"
Holmes went back to smoking his pipe. "We'll leave at half past three. You have your army revolver, I believe?"
Half past three came surprisingly quick, and I found my revolver and put it in my pocket. Holmes shrugged into his best jacket and found his top hat.
"Ana, put the knife back," he said disgustedly.
"But...!"
"Put it back. You're not coming."
"What?" Ana sounded angry and incredulous.
"It's far too dangerous. You'll stay here. Are you ready Watson? Come." Holmes walked towards the door.
"You can't do this!" Ana yelled. "You don't understand! Moriarty - he's my -"
Holmes slammed the door in her face, adjusted his collar, and led the way down the stairs. I gave one fearful glance backwards. It sounded as though a knife had been thrown into the door.