ordered fresh rashers and eggs, and joined us in a hearty meal. When it was

concluded he settled our new acquaintance upon the sofa, placed a pillow

beneath his head, and laid a glass of brandy and water within his reach.


“It is easy to see that your experience has been no common one, Mr.

Hatherley,” said he. “Pray, lie down there and make yourself

absolutely at home. Tell us what you can, but stop when you are tired and keep

up your strength with a little stimulant.”


“Thank you,” said my patient, “but I have felt another man

since the doctor bandaged me, and I think that your breakfast has completed the

cure. I shall take up as little of your valuable time as possible, so I shall

start at once upon my peculiar experiences.”


Holmes sat in his big armchair with the weary, heavy-lidded expression which

veiled his keen and eager nature, while I sat opposite to him, and we listened

in silence to the strange story which our visitor detailed to us.


“You must know,” said he, “that I am an orphan and a

bachelor, residing alone in lodgings in London. By profession I am a hydraulic

engineer, and I have had considerable experience of my work during the seven

years that I was apprenticed to Venner & Matheson, the well-known firm, of

Greenwich. Two years ago, having served my time, and having also come into a

fair sum of money through my poor father’s death, I determined to start

in business for myself and took professional chambers in Victoria Street.


“I suppose that everyone finds his first independent start in business a

dreary experience. To me it has been exceptionally so. During two years I have

had three consultations and one small job, and that is absolutely all that my

profession has brought me. My gross takings amount to £ 27 10s. Every

day, from nine in the morning until four in the afternoon, I waited in my

little den, until at last my heart began to sink, and I came to believe that I

should never have any practice at all.