Chapter V

It was my pleasure next to have a Sherlock Holmes story from Dr. Doyle, wherein the great detective is once more restored to life, and through an ingenious complication discovers himself. His sudden disappearance, which was never fully explained, did not really result in his death, but in a concussion of the brain in his fall over the precipice which drove all consciousness of his real self from his mind. Found in an unconscious condition by a band of yodelers, he is carried by them into the Tyrolese Alps, where, after a prolonged illness, he regains his health, but all his past life is a blank to him. How he sets about ferreting out the mystery of his identity is the burden of the story, and how he ultimately discovers that he is none other than Sherlock Holmes by finding a diamond brooch in the gizzard of a Christmas turkey at Nice, where he is stopping under the name of Higgins, is vividly set forth:

"'And you have never really ascertained, Mr. Higgins, who
you are?' asked Lady Blenkinsop, as they sat down at Mrs.
Wilbraham's gorgeous table on Christmas night.

"'No, madame,' he replied, sadly, 'but I shall ultimately
triumph. My taste in cigars is a peculiar one, and no one
else that I have ever met can smoke with real enjoyment the
kind of a cigar that I like. I am searching, step by step,
in every city for a cigar dealer who makes a specialty of
that brand who has recently lost a customer. Ultimately I
shall find one, and then the chain of evidence will be near
to its ultimate link, for it may be that I shall turn out to
be that man.'"

Thus the story runs on, and the pseudo-Higgins delights his fellow-guests with the brilliance of his conversation. He eats lightly, when suddenly a flash of triumph comes into his deep-set eyes, for on cutting open the turkey gizzard the diamond brooch is disclosed. He seems about to faint, but with a strong effort of the will he regains his strength and arises.

"Mrs. Wilbraham,' he said, quietly and simply--'ladies and
gentlemen, I must leave you. I take the 9.10 train for
London. May I be excused?'

"The eyes of the company opened wide.

"'Why--must you really go, Mr Higgins?' Mrs. Wilbraham
queried

"'It is imperative,' said he. 'I am going to have myself
identified. The finding of this diamond brooch in a turkey
gizzard convinces me that I am Sherlock Holmes. Such a thing
could happen to no other, yet I may be mistaken. I shall
call at once upon a certain Dr. Watson, of London, a friend
of Holmes's, who will answer the question definitely.'

"And with a courteous bow to the company he left the room,
his usually pale features aglow with unwonted color."

Of course, the surmise proves to be correct, and the great detective once more rejoins his former companions, restored not only to them, but to himself. It was one of the most keenly interesting studies of detective life that Dr. Doyle or any one else has ever given us, and my regret that the story is lost to the world amounts almost to a positive grief.