Part 1 - Chapter 2

Sherlock Holmes Discourses

It was one of those dramatic moments for which my friend existed.
It would be an overstatement to say that he was shocked or even
excited by the amazing announcement. Without having a tinge of
cruelty in his singular composition, he was undoubtedly callous
from long overstimulation. Yet, if his emotions were dulled, his
intellectual perceptions were exceedingly active. There was no
trace then of the horror which I had myself felt at this curt
declaration; but his face showed rather the quiet and interested
composure of the chemist who sees the crystals falling into
position from his oversaturated solution.

"Remarkable!" said he. "Remarkahle!"

"You don't seem surprised."

"Interested, Mr. Mac, but hardly surprised. Why should I be
surprised? I receive an anonymous communication from a quarter
which I know to be important, warning me that danger threatens a
certain person. Within an hour I learn that this danger has
actually materialized and that the person is dead. I am
interested; but, as you observe, I am not surprised."

In a few short sentences he explained to the inspector the facts
about the letter and the cipher. MacDonald sat with his chin on
his hands and his great sandy eyebrows bunched into a yellow
tangle.

"I was going down to Birlstone this morning," said he. "I had
come to ask you if you cared to come with me--you and your friend
here. But from what you say we might perhaps be doing better
work in London."

"I rather think not," said Holmes.

"Hang it all, Mr. Holmes!" cried the inspector. "The papers will
be full of the Birlstone mystery in a day or two; but where's the
mystery if there is a man in London who prophesied the crime
before ever it occurred? We have only to lay our hands on that
man, and the rest will follow."

"No doubt, Mr. Mac. But how do you propose to lay your hands on
the so-called Porlock?"

MacDonald turned over the letter which Holmes had handed him.
"Posted in Camberwell--that doesn't help us much. Name, you say,
is assumed. Not much to go on, certainly. Didn't you say that
you have sent him money?"

"Twice."

"And how?"

"In notes to Camberwell postoffice."

"Did you ever trouble to see who called for them?"

"No."

The inspector looked surprised and a little shocked. "Why not?"

"Because I always keep faith. I had promised when he first wrote
that I would not try to trace him."

"You think there is someone behind him?"

"I know there is."

"This professor that I've heard you mention?"

"Exactly!"

Inspector MacDonald smiled, and his eyelid quivered as he glanced
towards me. "I won't