"What do you make of it?" said I once he had lowered the paper down to his lap.

"It is a curious paper," commented Holmes. "Thick and creamy, yet with an uncommon coarseness to it. No watermark visible, although there are faint impressions on the reverse."

"It is of the sort found in the front of a ship's logbook. If you look extremely carefully, those impressions are the notations of a journey," noted Mrs Kendrick. "Even during times of extreme emergency, the pages are rarely discarded, and that is how I have come to know them. We nurses were at times entrusted with the books while their keepers were being tended for wounds received."

"A logbook, you say," noted I with interest, leaning forward eagerly in my chair. I knew that the books were invaluable, the officers of a ship being charged with saving them in the event of any disaster.

"That is one of the difficulties with the note," Mrs Kendrick admitted. "I know the value of the books and the rarity of them, especially ashore."

"It is a singular point," said Holmes. He extended the paper across to me, intending to have me read the text aloud. "But only one among many. Do read it, Watson."

It was composed in poetry. "Round about the world doth go," read I.
"Be men such fools they cannot know,
"What ancient fates they do now tempt.
"None among them we shall hold exempt."

"What can you observe of the writing?" demanded Holmes.

"Although the rhymes are good and well-thought, the writing shows signs of haste," said I.

"Yet, the ink has been allowed to dry completely without blotting paper, all but two words." Mrs Kendrick noted, starting to lean eagerly forward. She caught my eye and returned to her former pose with a sigh, bringing her teacup up to her lips.

"Which shows signs of great care being taken," observed Holmes, "despite the haste with which the note was written."

"My friend thought nothing of the note, thinking that it was a formal thanks to the gentlemen of the ship's company or a note of congratulations to me, and unfortunately the note was some days old before I received it," Mrs Kendrick informed Holmes and I.

"Have you no further information about the sender of the note?" Holmes inquired.

"I was merely a conduit for the funds collected by the ship's company," answered Mrs Kendrick. "It is naval custom for sailors to give a portion of their wages for the upkeep of the families of their deceased shipmates. My husband is responsible for the distribution of the funds, for the paymaster is quite new to the ship and is as yet unfamiliar with the company."

"So you know nothing further?"

"She was the wife of a petty officer," answered she, "who was killed in a gale while rounding the Cape of Good Hope some years ago. She has no children, so far as I know, and remarried only a few weeks ago."

"The naval pittance is given only to those who have no other means of support," said I. "By remarrying, she would have forfeited the right to such things."

"Precisely," she confirmed. "But the pittance she was given was no great sum. It was hardly enough for the upkeep of even a child and is more of a formality than anything else. It is surely not enough to justify such a note. And that, Mr Holmes, is all that I know of this beyond a dark man that has been seen lurking outside of my lodgings for the past several nights."

"As you stated," said Holmes, "there are some facts that are sadly lacking in this case. However, I feel that it would be a sore disservice to you to refuse you, especially as you have gone to such trouble to come to us." Holmes was being surprisingly chivalrous and I was surprised at him. Then he added, "Besides, it is rarely that I have the chance to deduce future events from facts so intriguing as these." That was more in character of Sherlock Holmes.

"You mention a man," said I, wondering why Sherlock Holmes had not inquired further into the matter.

"Leave the lady be for a moment," admonished Holmes dreamily. "She is tired and Mrs Hudson will be up with supper at any moment. You will dine with us, will you not?" he inquired of Mrs Kendrick.

"It would be a pleasure," answered she.

"Good, good," Holmes said, rubbing his thin hands together eagerly. "Now, Watson," said he, "the landlady has no idea as to the nature of our visitor and I should think it best for her not to find out."

"Most certainly," I agreed, knowing that her sense of propriety would be sorely tried should she learn of Mrs Kendrick's condition. "It would be best if we all remained seated here until Mrs Hudson has retired back downstairs. It will be apparent that she is here, but with a careful placement of my chair, her details may easily be concealed from the landlady."

Holmes sprang from his chair, remarking, "You have made good study of the situation, my dear Watson." He dug out a chessboard from beneath some other books and passed it over to us.

I arranged my chair in the necessary way and placed the board on the table between our chairs, arranging the pieces so as to make it appear as though the two of us had been at the game for a good amount of time. The lady herself aided me in this task, much to the pleasure of Holmes.

I could not begin to fathom what thoughts were running through his quick mind. Surely there were not enough facts in the brief note and the sparse descriptions that the lady had provided. And yet, he had the look of pleasure on his face that only arose when he was embarking on some enjoyable mental exercise.

Steps were heard on the stairs only a short time later and it was not long before our supper was laid on the table and we three were again left alone. Our chess game, set up quite in my favour, had progressed slightly, and the lady was making remarkable advances considering the state her pieces had begun in.

"Shall we dine?" asked Sherlock Holmes when the door had closed and the footsteps retreated down the stairs and out of hearing. He stepped over to offer his assistance to Mrs Kendrick.

"I am quite fine, I assure you," said she, endeavouring to lift herself up out of the chair. But what with the softness of the cushions and the pillow I had earlier placed behind her, she was finding considerable difficulty in the task.

"Please, my dear Mrs Kendrick," said Holmes, catching up her arm, "I could never forgive myself if I did not act the gentleman and give you my aid."

I followed Holmes's lead and took up her other arm, helping to lift her up from the chair. "You need not be ashamed of accepting help," I told her softly as Holmes disappeared into his rooms for a moment. I had at once realized the nature of her reluctance to accept our help. "You are a singularly strong and capable woman, to have managed alone for so long, and to have taken such steps. But your husband would not want you to overtax yourself."

"You speak from experience, Doctor Watson," she noted, submitting herself to my guidance.

"Only from my brief experience in marriage," said I, helping Holmes lower her to one of the chairs. "And from the experience of being away from the country on campaign."

"Then you speak from the deepest of experience," she assured me with a sigh. "And you see why I was thankful when you introduced yourself to me." She shifted slightly uncomfortably upon the hard chair, but made no complaint.

This time it was Sherlock Holmes that was standing by to minister to her. He was ready with a box for her to prop her feet upon, a pillow for her back, and a blanket for her lap. "What was it that you said of my knowledge of medicine when we were first acquainted, Doctor Watson?" Holmes inquired when the lady was settled to his satisfaction.

"I said that it was variable," I replied, taking my own seat.

"And that is the end of my variance in this, my good doctor," declared Holmes jovially. "Further than this, I will be forced to entrust matters into your capable and well-trained hands."

We dined well, speaking nothing of the case at hand. I knew that Sherlock Holmes would return ere long to the issue of the dark man, but he was contented to wait until after we had dined and so I saw no reason to push the matter.

"I admit, Mrs Kendrick," said Sherlock Holmes as we ate, "that earlier you had quite surprised me. And as my friend can inform you, I am rarely surprised."

"On the matter of the naval hospital?" she inquired.

"A merest passing familiarity with my methods and a bit of imagination could have led to that," Holmes remarked. "No, it was rather on the manner of Doctor Watson's army background. The signs are not nearly so apparent now as they were when I first met him. He has even laid off his habit of keeping his handkerchief up his sleeve."

She laughed. "It was quite simple, Mr Holmes. Although he has been home for some time now, he still retains a hint of the upright bearing that is quite unique to military men. He has allowed his hair to grow out slightly, but he retains the abhorrence for a slovenly appearance; his face is haggard and tired, yet he is well shaved. And I should not be surprised if somewhere he bore the permanent marks of his service, for he is young to be an already retired Army doctor."

"Splendid," declared Holmes in delight. "I could not have done better myself." Coming from Holmes, it was the highest praise.

"And as to your deduction that my husband and I were newly married?" she inquired.

"As simple as could be," remarked Holmes with a chuckle of his own. "You have forgotten to put on your wedding ring. For women who have been married for long periods, to wear the ring is as a second nature and they are rarely seen without them."

"Your conclusion was correct," countered Mrs Kendrick. "But unfortunately, your facts are a bit wrong. I suppose that it may be forgiven considering you are a bachelor."

For a second time that night, Sherlock Holmes wore an unmistakeable look of surprise upon his face. "A newly married woman is equally as unlikely to go about without her ring," I informed him. "My own wife has not been seen without hers since I first presented it to her. I would hazard a guess that Mrs Kendrick bears her ring about with her, although she is unable to wear it."

Mrs Kendrick obliged by withdrawing a chain from her bosom, hanging from which was the wedding ring. "You see, Mr Holmes, it will no longer fit over my finger, which has swollen."

Holmes was duly chastised and left the remainder of the burden of conversation to me. Mrs Kendrick and I discussed several recent medical advances that had been published in the papers, and I quite enjoyed her intelligent conversation. I noted Holmes was listening with interest, although he did not join in. Perhaps he had determined to enlarge his store of medical knowledge, so as not to allow his deductions be led astray again.