“A simple case, and yet, in some ways, an instructive one,” Holmes remarked, as we travelled back to town.  “It hinged from the outset upon the pince-nez.  But for the fortunate chance of the dying man having seized these, I am not sure that we could ever have reached our solution.  It was clear to me, from the strength of the glasses, that the wearer must have been very blind and helpless when deprived of them.  When you asked me to believe that she walked along a narrow strip of grass without once making a false step, I remarked, as you may remember, that it was a noteworthy performance.  In my mind I set it down as an impossible performance, save in the unlikely case that she had a second pair of glasses.  I was forced, therefore, to consider seriously the hypothesis that she had remained within the house.  On perceiving the similarity of the two corridors, it became clear that she might very easily have made such a mistake, and, in that case, it was evident that she must have entered the professor’s room.  I was keenly on the alert, therefore, for whatever would bear out this supposition, and I examined the room narrowly for anything in the shape of a hiding-place.  The carpet seemed continuous and firmly nailed, so I dismissed the idea of a trap-door.  There might well be a recess behind the books.  As you are aware, such devices are common in old libraries.  I observed that books were piled on the floor at all other points, but that one bookcase was left clear.  This, then, might be the door.  I could see no marks to guide me, but the carpet was of a dun colour, which lends itself very well to examination.  I therefore smoked a great number of those excellent cigarettes, and I dropped the ash all over the space in front of the suspected bookcase.  It was a simple trick, but exceedingly effective.  I then went downstairs, and I ascertained, in your presence, Watson, without your perceiving the drift of my remarks, that Professor Coram’s consumption of food had increased—­as one would expect when he is supplying a second person.  We then ascended to the room again, when, by upsetting the cigarette-box, I obtained a very excellent view of the floor, and was able to see quite clearly, from the traces upon the cigarette ash, that the prisoner had in our absence come out from her retreat.  Well, Hopkins, here we are at Charing Cross, and I congratulate you on having brought your case to a successful conclusion.  You are going to headquarters, no doubt.  I think, Watson, you and I will drive together to the Russian Embassy.”

THE ADVENTURE OF THE MISSING THREE-QUARTER

We were fairly accustomed to receive weird telegrams at Baker Street, but I have a particular recollection of one which reached us on a gloomy February morning, some seven or eight years ago, and gave Mr. Sherlock Holmes a puzzled quarter of an hour.  It was addressed to him, and ran thus: 

Please await me.  Terrible misfortune.  Right wing three-quarter missing, indispensable to-morrow.  Overton.