I did not know the precise nature of this disease; as I had told Holmes, I knew very little in the realm of tropical disceases. Holmes had told me my qualifications were mediocre. Perhaps he was right.
Or perhaps that was the illness talking. Would my mind slowly slide into madness? Would Holms feel the same horror on seeing my my mind a wreck as I had on seeing him?
I also wondered where Holmes had gone. I thought there were two choices: that he had gone to consult Ainstree, the tropicial disease specialist I had mentioned, or...and this thought chilled me...he had gone to fetch this Culverton Smith, who had caused this trouble in the first place. I hoped for the first option.
There was a knock on the door. Before I answered, I heard the voice of our landlady.
"Doctor," she called from behind the door. "I have been forbidden to enter this room. Forgive me. Mr Holmes informs me all will be well, and tells me not to leave- but so help me, if he is not back within the hour I shall fetch every doctor in town. How dare he treat a friend like this!"
"It's quite all right, Mrs Hudson," I said, alarmed to find my voice was weakening. "He could not have forseen..."
"Ha! When he returns, we shall have words about this matter."
"That is what I too said to him. It should be quite the conversation."
A pause, then there was a slight quiver in her voice when she said. "I only wish I could bring you food or water. Mr Holmes tells me if I so much as touch you, the illness will spread to me. I am in a strong mood to disobey him, though, so..."
"No, please, Mrs Hudson, do not risk it."
"As you wish," she said rather gloomily. "Before long you shall be cured, or..." She did not finish her sentence, but excused herself, and walked away.
I was left with little to occupy my mind. I thougt about getting up from the bed and taking a book or two to read, but my body did not seem to obey my commands. How I wished I knew something of this disease. How long did it take for delirium to display itself? When Holmes returned, would he find me a babbling child?
How long I lay in the bed I am not sure, for I drifted in and out of sleep, but presently I heard voices, and footsteps. Holmes, a policeman, and a man I did not know burst into the room. Holmes glanced at me, possibly to check I had not actually expired, and then began to speak in a harsh tone.
"I have gone to Doctor Ainstree to find him...indisposed, hastily making his way to a patient I believe to be...ficitous." He gave one of the men, who I took to be Culverton Smith, a cold glance. "As you can see, I had little choice but to put your life in the hands of this man, and for that I am truly sorry. Morton here joins me, and an arrest has been made."
"I cannot believe you did this," I said glumly. "From what you have told me, he is an irreemable villain. What use could he possibly be?"
There was a flicker of something terrible in Holmes' eyes as he turned to the other man. "See here your handiwork," he said. "My friend is dying. And as the only other person in London with a knowledge of this illness is away, by means of letters informing him of a medical case he could not bring himself to pass up, and of a sum of money no man could pass up- I am forced to turn to you. I place my friend's wellbeing far above that of my own."
"How very touching."
"You are his only hope. Cure him, and...I give you my word you will not hang."
"Mr Holmes," the policeman said sternly.
"It's no use begging me, as amusing as I find it," Culverton Smith said. "You have taken all from me. I am nothing short of joyful that I have taken something from you too."
What Holmes said next was unexpected. In almost a roar he said, "Cure him! You may shoot me where I stand, only cure him!"
The policeman shook his head and started to push Culverton Smith away. "This drama must come to an end, Holmes," he said. "I am honestly sorry."
Culverton Smith gave a smile as he was led out of the door. "Your friend may have hours or days, I do not know," he said. His smile grew fiendish. "I will think of this as I lie in prison."
"It's the grave you will shortly be lying in," Morton said harshly. "Come,"
The second they had gone Holmes dashed to my bed.
"John, I'm so sorry."
"You are not reassuring me," I said weakly, "for if you are using my Christian name, it means we truly are in a crisis."
"John," he said again, not helping at all, "please forgive me."
"Of course I forgive you," I said, adding none too hopefully, "There may be hope yet. If only we could bring Ainstree here..."
"Our enemy was too clever this time," he said quietly. "Ainstree is beyond our grasp. I sent Mrs Hudson to fetch any doctor she could, but..."
"But you doubt they will help." I finished.
"I'm not giving up. We know so little of this disease, perhaps a strong soul might shake it off." He looked more desperate than I had even seen him.
Then, my vision began to fade.
"It is hours, not days, I fear," I said. "I need you to tell Mary I love her."
"I will," he said.
"You think you've failed me, but you never have. Remember that."
He gave a reply, but I barely heard it, as I was falling unconcious. I did not expect to wake up again. I thought of Mary, and tried not to imagine her sorrow.
"Don't despair, my friend," I heard myself saying. "I have no doubt..."
...that this is not the end, I meant to say, but everything was going black.