“That is for us to find out,” said Sherlock Holmes, with peculiar gravity. “What is your London address, Mr. Green?”
“The Langham Hotel will find me.”
“Then may I recommend that you return there and be on hand in case I should want you? I have no desire to encourage false hopes, but you may rest assured that all that can be done will be done for the safety of Lady Frances. I can say no more for the instant. I will leave you this card so that you may be able to keep in touch with us. Now, Watson, if you will pack your bag I will cable to Mrs. Hudson to make one of her best efforts for two hungry travellers at seven-thirty to-morrow.”
A telegram was awaiting us when we reached our Baker Street rooms, which Holmes read with an exclamation of interest and threw across to me. “Jagged or torn,” was the message, and the place of origin Baden.
“What is this?” I asked.
“It is everything,” Holmes answered. “You may remember my seemingly irrelevant question as to this clerical gentleman’s left ear. You did not answer it.”
“I had left Baden, and could not inquire.”
“Exactly. For this reason I sent a duplicate to the manager of the Englischer Hof, whose answer lies here.”
