Sherlock Holmes and the Sacred Sword

He had a piece of timber between two of the bars and was using it as a lever. There was a strained sound to his voice, and the muscles of his arms and shoulders were tight under his jacket. I well recalled that day in '83 when my friend had straightened out the steel poker, bent into a curve by the villainous Grimesby Roylott, with one sudden effort. I knew the strength he was exerting. Suddenly, he relaxed with a smile.

'This is an ancient structure and I sense that I'm making some progress with these bars. But a moment, Watson, and we shall try together.'

'Where did you—?'

'One of the slats on the bed,' he replied, anticipating my question and gesturing with the wooden piece in his hand. 'Whereas the passage of years decreases the strength of masonry, seasoning increases that of wood. I judge this slat has supported the backs of many prisoners in years long gone.'

I was looking out of the window now and could see that we were four stories up, at the top of the building. I noted Holmes's scarf attached to one of the bars and saw that it fluttered limply in the occasional wind that fanned our place of captivity. Suddenly my eyes blurred, and I had to rub them for a moment and shake my head before they came back into focus.

'When I saw Chu San Fu and his infernal phial of crystals, I was able to gasp some untainted air and did not receive the full shock of the gas he subjected us to,' explained Holmes.

'What did the beggar use?'

'Haven't the faintest. The Chinese are an ancient race, and I imagine they have a few tricks that our pharmacies, for all their modern developments, might find of interest. Our laboratories as well.'

Holmes was rubbing his thin, amazingly strong arms, and his manner, to anyone not used to his calm acceptance of adversity, would have been infuriating. I found it reassuring.

'Look here, if you think we can budge one of those bars, I'm ready for action. But considering our height from the ground, it seems like labor lost.'

'A possible exit of any kind could be helpful. Here, ol' chap, let us give it a go.'

I was able to position my hands over Holmes's and we put our backs to it. I could feel the iron bar shifting slightly. Then the veins in my friend's forehead stood out for a brief moment, and there was a grating sound. 'Enough, Watson. We have it!'

I was puffing and gasping, but the lower part of one bar was disengaged from its long resting place and was free. A moment more and Holmes had the top of the round metal piece loose as well and was hefting it in his hand.

'Iron is a formidable weapon. The age of copper and brass was the golden one for Egypt. When the Hittites appeared with iron weapons, the great decline set in.'

'You have some plan for our escape?'

'At the moment, no. Our incarceration came as a surprise. I was counting on Chu San Fu's overweening ego to keep us on the scene if only to tell us how clever he is.'

'Then you expected to be captured?'

'Always a possibility, Watson. One that occurred to you as well, but you followed my misguided footsteps nonetheless. Dear, loyal friend.'

For a brief moment Holmes regarded me with that half-smile that in others might have seemed supercilious, but I divined his thoughts and was deeply touched by them.

'Well,' I said with buoyed spirits, 'if we can remove one bar, two should not be beyond our capabilities.'

But it took us another five minutes, and hard labor it was before we had the second bar out of the window. 'What now?' I asked, taking in deep breaths of air. 'We would need wings to go out the window, so we have little choice but to await what fate has in store for us. However, it is not such a terrible situation. Obviously, Chu had us removed to this cell because other matters claimed his undivided attention. I suspect that sooner or later he will order us brought to his presence to gloat a bit before he gives his henchmen the high sign to do us in. The Chinaman has all the instincts of an Oriental despot and, if born in another time, would wish himself to be no less than a Mandarin.'

Holmes indicated the door to our cubicle. 'You will note the barred grate, Watson. I tested that while you were still unconscious. Should a guard drop by to check on our behavior, I've a thought in mind. You might be attempting to maneuver your way through the window. If he were to enter to prevent an escape and I were behind the door, I could certainly cosh him with one of these iron bars.'

I was gazing at him in astonishment, entranced by the ingenious escape plan that he had rattled off in his matter-of-fact manner. Then he shook his head.

'It's a thin reed, Watson, forced on me by the chill wind of desperation.'

'But why? Sounds like a capital idea to me.'

'If the man or men have any sense, they will not enter this cell without both of us plainly visible. Possibly Chu San Fu is served by idiots, but I doubt it. Like calls to like.'

'That went past me, Holmes.'

'The Chinaman has rallied the remnants of his once-considerable underworld empire in this last-ditch effort. He must be using a considerable amount of what we might call 'local talent.' I'll wager that from the bazaars and low haunts of Cairo he has secured the most accomplished of the scoundrels at hand. Possibly my scheme should be abandoned in the hopes that we will be taken to Chu and can wreak some havoc in the ranks of the ungodly then.'

As my friend mused, I had crossed to the door and was peering out of the narrow grating into the dark corridor beyond. I never did learn if Holmes decided to try his scheme or not, for suddenly there was a voice. It was close; it did not come from the corridor; and I wheeled round as though I had received an arrow in my posterior, half expecting to find some form that had materialized in our cell. But there was only Holmes, and I must say he looked as amazed as I felt.

'Holmes . . . you iss in der? Nicht war?' The voice was low in tone, almost a whisper, but its timber gave it a carrying quality. Wildly, I looked round the cell for some flue or vent but could locate none.

'Come verrunter und help me get into dis here place.' My friend had sprung to his feet and rushed to the window. As I followed in his wake, he cautioned me back.

'Watch the door, Watson. An intrusion at this time would be inconvenient.'

I obeyed him promptly, my mind in a whirl. The voice came from outside the window. Holmes had said we couldn't get out of there without wings. How then could anyone get in? I stole a quick glance from my station at the grate and saw Holmes pulling a thin, wiry form through the opening. There was something strange about his appearance, and for the moment I could not divine what it was. But help was at hand, and with considerable effort I forced myself to gaze into the corridor and listen intently so that I could warn Holmes if anyone approached.

'How is it without, Watson?'

'No sign of light. No sound either.'

'Then I guess we're safe for the moment.'

Whether Holmes meant that I could abandon my post or not I did not know, but I could not help returning to the center of the room, such was my curiosity regarding this most unusual happening.

Our visitor was removing strange-looking, rubberized objects that were attached to his hands with a glove arrangement. I noted that there were similar devices on both knees and on his feet as well.

'Who are you, sir?' I stammered.

'Zo, who else could climb up here—four flights and flat as a fancuchen! Pretty goot job if I zay zo myself.'

'Shadow Schadie,' exclaimed Holmes, and his smile was half mirth and half admiration. 'The only man who can walk up walls.'

'Vell, maybe not der only vun, but der only vun in Cairo.'

'But what are you doing in Egypt?' I heard the words but didn't realize I was saying them, I was so amazed.

'It's der payoff,' was Schadie's reply as though he were discussing the price of a mutton chop. 'You go to der clinker und you see mine son und I don't know vat you say to him but der vord iss oudt. He iss gonna be all right up here in der noggin.'

The famous thief was tapping his forehead and there was the light of excitement in his deep-set brown