• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

Chastened, I gazed upwards. All I could see were the soles of his feet. I scurried back and placed my stethoscope against the ceiling.

There were two voices upstairs. One seemed to belong to an older man, and was oddly familiar. The second was that of an old woman. Together they seemed to be chanting a series of polysyllabic words in a regular and detached manner, like children reciting nursery rhymes.

'I-ay, I-ay,' the sound seemed to go, 'naghaa, naghaighai! Shoggog fathaghn! I-ay, I-ay tsa toggua tholoya! Tholoya fathaghn!'

I looked over towards the window, suppressing a shudder. There was no sign of Holmes. I felt a moment of panic, but decided in the end that if he had fallen he would have made some noise, if only to warn me.

The two voices were chanting out of phase now. They seemed still to be using the same words, but the elder man's voice was two syllables ahead of the woman's. The effect was oddly hypnotic. The curious stresses within the words made the chant resonate with a strong beat as the voices alternately reinforced and competed with each other. I had heard much the same effect in Afghanistan and India, listening to the music of the native tribesmen of the hills, music based not upon the melodic structure so dear to Holmes's heart, but upon a rhythmic foundation not heard in the West.

The chant stopped abruptly in the middle of a phrase. For a moment I thought that Holmes had been discovered, until a third voice spoke. It was high-pitched and pure, without character or personality. It oozed sweetness. I had never heard anything like it in my life.

'My children,' it said, 'you have done well. I am pleased.'

The man spoke again, but in English.

'When shall we bask again in your presence?' he asked fawningly.

'Soon, very soon,' the outlandish voice answered. Despite its peculiarities, I could make out its meaning.

'The armies are gathered,' the man said. Presumably he was well used to the owner of the strange accent.

'You must see to it yourself. The brethren will be committed to moving me soon.'

'I would crave a request, oh luminous one.'

'Name it. You are my favoured son.'

'There is interference here. I would ask that a few of the brethren are spared to protect this side of the gateway.'

'Interference? You displease me. The guards are mobilizing. Soon they may realize our plans. I am loathe to spare any of the brethren.'

'A detective and a stranger called the Doctor are investigating our affairs.

They are nothing, but I would not take chances with your safety at stake.'

There seemed to be a slight quickening of interest in the voice.

'Nothing can threaten my safety, but this Doctor may pose problems. You may have four of the brethren. They will be waiting this side of the gateway.

. . '

There was a sudden scrabble outside the window, and the sound of rubble hitting stone far below. In the moment before I tore my stethoscope away from the ceiling a silence fell across the meeting, broken by the woman's voice asking, 'What was that?'

'Some jackanapes is outside the window!' the elder man snapped. 'The connection is broken! Maupertuis! Damn you, man, attend me!'

As the door to the room above was thrown open by, I presumed, Baron Maupertuis, I rushed across and peered out of the window. There was no sign of Holmes down below.

'Watson!'

An urgent hiss attracted my attention upwards. Holmes was moving rapidly down towards me. Beyond him I could see that the lintel beneath the window must have crumbled under his fingers, sending fragments of masonry crashing to the ground.

'Damn it,' Holmes exclaimed as I pulled him in. 'All that and I hardly got a glimpse. Maupertuis was outside guarding the door, that much is for sure.

There were only the two of them in the room, and the robed man had his back to me.'

'Only two of them? But I heard three voices!'

'I know,' Holmes barked as he flung open the door.

We emerged onto the landing at the same time that Baron