Thaddeus Sholto, that is my
name.
You are Miss Morstan, of course.
And these gentlemen?
This is Mr. Sherlock Holmes,
and this Dr. Watson.
A doctor?
A doctor.
Would you have the kindness?
I have grave doubts
as to my mitral valve.
The aortic I may rely upon,
but I should value
your opinion upon the mitral.
Had your father, Miss Morstan,
refrained from throwing a strain
upon his heart,
he might have been alive now.
It appears to be normal.
I am delighted to hear
that they are unwarranted.
Would you have the kindness, Mr.
Sholto to tell us everything.
It's late.
Yes, it's late.
I... Mr. Holmes...
I shall tell you everything.
I shall explain you.
Miss Morstan,
I can do you justice, and I will!
I will do it,
whatever Brother Bartholomew may
say.
I am so glad to have your friends
here
not only as an escort to you
but also as witnesses
to what I am about to do and say.
Let us have no outsiders -
no police or officials.
I trust that you have no
objection to tobacco-smoke.
I am a little nervous, and I find
my hookah an invaluable sedative.
My father was Major John Sholto,
once of the Indian Army,
He brought back a large collection
of curiosities, and a staff of native
servants.
My brother Bartholomew
and I were the only children.
We did know that some positive
danger, overhung him.
He was very fearful of going out
alone,
and he always
employed two prize-fighters
to act as porters
at Pondicherry Lodge.
On one occasion our father
actually fired his revolver
at a wooden-legged man,
who proved to be a harmless
tradesman canvassing for orders.
Early in 1882 my father
received a letter from India.
It was short
and it was a great shock to him.
He had suffered for years
from an enlarged spleen,
but he now became rapidly worse.
Towards the beginning of April we
were informed that he wished to see
us.
He besought us to lock the door and
to come upon either side of the bed.
I have only one thing,
which weighs upon my mind
at this supreme moment.
It is my treatment
of poor Morstan's orphan.
The cursed greed.
See that chaplet tipped with pearls?
Even that I could not bear to part
with, although I had got it out to
send it to her.
You, my sons, will give her
a fair share of the Agra treasure.
But send her nothing,
not even the chaplet,
until I am gone.
I will tell you how Morstan died.
He had suffered
for years from a weak heart.
When in India, he and I, came into
possession of a considerable
treasure.
I brought it over to England.
Soon Morstan came back to England.
Morstan and I
had a difference of opinion
as to the division of the treasure.
Morstan had sprung out
of his chair, his face turned a dusky
hue.
He fell backward, cutting his head
against the corner of the
treasure-chest.
Do not fear, sahib, no one
need know that you have killed him.
Let us hide him away.
- I did not kill him.
- I heard it all.
I heard you quarrel.
I heard the blow.
But my lips are sealed.
All are asleep in the house.
Let us put him away together.
If my own servant
could not believe my innocence,
how could I hope to make it good
before twelve foolish tradesmen in a
jury-box?
I disposed of the body.
We concealed not only the body
but also the treasure and that I have
clung to Morstan's share as well as
to my own.
I wish you, therefore, to make
restitution.
Put your ears down to my mouth.
Down to my mouth.
The treasure is hidden in--
Keep him out!
For Christ's sake keep him out!
We searched the garden
that night but found nothing.
Only a single footmark
was visible in the flower-bed.
Just under the window.
The window of my father's room
was found open in the morning,
his cup-boards and boxes had been
rifled,
and upon his chest
was fixed a torn piece of paper
with the words
'The sign of the four' scrawled
across it.
I would like to look at it.
My brother has it.
He lives in my father's house.
We will be there soon.
We will?