It is possible that the serum of anthropoid would have beenbetter. I have, as I explained to you, used black-faced langur becausea specimen was accessible. Langur is, of course, a crawler andclimber, while anthropoid walks erect and is in all ways nearer.
I beg you to take every possible precaution that there be nopremature revelation of the process. I have one other client inEngland, and Dorak is my agent for both.
Weekly reports will oblige.
Yours with high esteem, H. LOWENSTEIN.
Lowenstein! The name brought back to me the memory ofsome snippet from a newspaper which spoke of an obscurescientist who was striving in some unknown way for the secretof rejuvenescence and the elixir of life. Lowenstein of Prague!
Lowenstein with the wondrous strength-giving serum, tabooedby the profession because he refused to reveal its source. In a fewwords I said what I remembered. Bennett had taken a manual ofzoology from the shelves. “ ‘Langur.’ ” he read. “ ‘the great blackfacedmonkey of the Himalayan slopes, biggest and most humanof climbing monkeys.’ Many details are added. Well, thanks toyou, Mr. Holmes, it is very clear that we have traced the evil to itssource.”
“The real source,” said Holmes, “lies, of course, in that untimelylove affair which gave our impetuous professor the idea that hecould only gain his wish by turning himself into a younger man.
When one tries to rise above Nature one is liable to fall belowit. The highest type of man may revert to the animal if he leavesthe straight road of destiny.” He sat musing for a little with thephial in his hand, looking at the clear liquid within. “When Ihave written to this man and told him that I hold him criminallyresponsible for the poisons which he circulates, we will have nomore trouble. But it may recur. Others may find a better way.
There is danger there—a very real danger to humanity. Consider,Watson, that the material, the sensual, the worldly would allprolong their worthless lives. The spiritual would not avoid thecall to something higher. It would be the survival of the least fit.
What sort of cesspool may not our poor world become?” Suddenlythe dreamer disappeared, and Holmes, the man of action, sprangfrom his chair. “I think there is nothing more to be said, Mr.Bennett. The various incidents will now fit themselves easily intothe general scheme. The dog, of course, was aware of the changefar more quickly than you. His smell would insure that. It was themonkey, not the professor, whom Roy attacked, just as it was themonkey who teased Roy. Climbing was a joy to the creature, andit was a mere chance, I take it, that the pastime brought him tothe young lady’s window. There is an early train to town, Watson,but I think we shall just have time for a cup of tea at the Chequersbefore we catch it.”
The Adventure of the Lion’s Mane
It is a most singular thing that a problem which was certainlyas abstruse and unusual as any which I have faced in my longprofessional career should have come to me after my retirement,and be brought, as it were, to my very door. It occurred after mywithdrawal to my little Sussex home, when I had given myself upentirely to that soothing life of Nature for which I had so oftenyearned during the long years spent amid the gloom of London. Atthis period of my life the good Watson had passed almost beyondmy ken. An occasional week-end visit was the most that I eversaw of him. Thus I must act as my own chronicler. Ah! had he butbeen with me, how much he might have made of so wonderful ahappening and of my eventual triumph against every difficulty!
As it is, however, I must needs tell my tale in my own plain way,showing by my words each step upon the difficult road which laybefore me as I searched for the mystery of the Lion’s Mane.
My villa is situated upon the southern slope of the downs,commanding a great view of the Channel. At this point the coastlineis entirely of chalk cliffs, which can only be descended bya single, long, tortuous path, which is steep and slippery. At thebottom of the path lie a hundred yards of pebbles and shingle,even when the tide is at full. Here and there, however, there arecurves and hollows which make splendid swimming-pools filledafresh with each flow. This admirable beach extends for somemiles in each direction, save only at one point where the littlecove and village of Fulworth break the line.
My house is lonely. I, my old housekeeper, and my bees havethe estate all to ourselves. Half a mile off, however, is HaroldStackhurst’s well-known coaching establishment, The Gables,quite a large place, which contains some score of young fellowspreparing for various professions, with a staff of several masters.
Stackhurst himself was a well-known rowing Blue in his day, andan excellent all-round scholar. He and I were always friendly fromthe day I came to the coast, and he was the one man who was onsuch terms with me that we could drop in on each other in theevenings without an invitation.
Towards the end of July, 1907, there was a severe gale, the windblowing up-channel, heaping the seas to the base of the cliffs andleaving a lagoon at the turn of the tide. On the morning of whichI speak the wind had abated, and all Nature was newly washedand fresh. It was impossible to work upon so delightful a day, andI strolled out before breakfast to enjoy the exquisite air. I walkedalong the cliff path which led to the steep descent to the beach.
As I walked I heard a shout behind me, and there was HaroldStackhurst waving his hand in cheery greeting.
“What a morning, Mr. Holmes! I thought I should see you out.”
“Going for a swim, I see.”
“At your old tricks again,” he laughed, patting his bulging pocket.
“Yes. McPherson started early, and I expect I may find him there.”
