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I entered our rooms in Baker Street and instantly began to cough.  If I thought the streets were bad that morning, this was worse.  Hurriedly I tied my scarf back round my face, covering, as best as possible, my nose and mouth.  I made my way across the room to the window, bashing into a stool which had certainly not been there earlier and which I could hardly see.  I threw open the window and was grateful when the fug, which had taken over the room, slowly began to dissipate.

Cautiously, I removed my scarf, but my coughing began again and I quickly replaced it.  At least now I could see what the cause of this poisonous atmosphere was.  Holmes must have been experimenting, and one of his experiments was still smouldering, even though he had gone out.  There was a jug of water nearby, which I took up and poured liberally over the experiment.  I would deal with the wrath of our housekeeper later if necessary, at least we no longer were in risk of being poisoned.

At that point there was a knock on the door of our rooms and Ethel called to me.

“Do not come in,” I shouted at her.  “There’s been a bit of an accident.”

“A Mr Holmes’ accident?” Ethel shouted back.

“Yes!”

“I’ll go and tell Mrs Hudson.”

Shortly afterwards I heard Mrs Hudson coming up the stairs.  I had been able to remove my scarf, so I called to her to come in and shut the door quickly.  She did so, and I noticed she was carrying a mop, a bucket of water, and, for some reason, the poker.

I apologised for the water, which was now dripping off the table and onto the floor.  She nodded and fetched a towel from Holmes’ room to dry the table.

“Be very careful of the contents of that saucer,” I warned.

Using the poker, she skilfully directed the saucer into the bucket of water, where it sank and promptly cracked.

Satisfied she had cleared everything sufficiently, she said, “Will you be requiring luncheon today, Doctor?”

“No thank you,” I replied.  “I shall go to my club.”

She nodded in understanding and said, “I should leave the window open when you go.  I’ll make sure it’s shut later.”

With that she departed downstairs, and I, once more, donned my hat and coat.

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I was approaching the steps to my club when my arm was jostled by an old man, who wheezed out, “Spare a copper for an old soldier, mister.”

“If you don’t leave me alone, this old soldier will set a copper on you,” I muttered crossly.  “I wouldn’t even be here if some fool,” I emphasised the word strongly, “hadn’t left his experiment working.”

“Is she very cross?” he wheezed.

“She is, but not as cross as I am.”

By this time we had walked past my club and reached the junction with the next road, where the old man pushed me, with a strength belied by his appearance, into turning left.

As soon as we were out of sight of the main road, Holmes straightened up and grabbed my arm, saying, “Quick, Watson, there’s not a minute to lose.”

We practically ran down the road, before turning into a small side street.  There we stopped.

“In a minute,” Holmes said, “we shall continue to walk down this street, and I shall indicate a house to you.  You are to knock on the front door, and when it is answered, to say you have come for the patient.”

“But I haven’t my bag,” I protested.

“No matter.  I doubt anyone will notice.  The important thing is you must find the girl, bring her outside, and then get her to somewhere safe.  I leave the destination to you.”

“And where will you be?”

“Here, but hopefully invisible to even you, my trusty friend.”

We walked down the street, and when Holmes said, ‘Here’, I turned from him and knocked on the door.  It was answered by an old woman, who accepted my presence without question and took me to a small back room on the first floor, handed me a coat and shoes and departed.

There I found a young woman of perhaps twenty years old.  She looked frightened as I walked into the room, so I sought to reassure her as best as I could, and helped her into the shoes and coat.  I then assisted her down the stairs, and finding no-one around, quietly let us out of the house.

I looked around, but could see no sign of Holmes, and accordingly set off back up the street in the direction we had come from.  The young lady lent heavily on my arm, but, despite my initial concerns, she was able to walk at a reasonable pace.

I was hopeful this adventure would be over soon, but as we reached the end of the side street, the visibility, which had worsened considerably even while I was in the house, reduced even further.

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My initial plan had been to take a cab as soon as we reached the main road, but this was clearly no longer possible.  We had the advantage that no-one should be able to follow us, but the disadvantage was that if a number of pursuers were sent out we might come into close contact with one before we had realised.

“Where do you live?” I asked the young lady.  “I will take you home.”

“No, please, not there.  They will come there to look for me, and my cousin may be there already.”

“Very well.  Is there a friend you could go to?”

She sobbed.  “I do not know who I can trust.”

I sighed.  The only alternative was to take her back to Baker Street.  This was not ideal.  As soon as her enemies realised Holmes had been involved, someone would be despatched to check our address.  But at least Mrs Hudson and Ethel could be relied on to play their part.

We continued walking, but the young lady began to limp rather more, and I feared the distance would prove too far for her.  Ordinarily I would have taken the quicker route, via the back streets, but in the fog it would be only too easy to lose my way.

We had just reached the junction where we would turn to pass my club, when a small hand grasped the elbow of the arm I was not using to support my companion.  I stopped walking.

A boy’s voice said, “Doctor, Mr ‘Olmes said we was to get you back okay.  Would you like some ‘elp wiv the young lady?”

“Thank you,” I replied.  “I think I can support her by myself, but your guidance will be very helpful.”

And so we were passed from one Irregular to the next until we were safely back.  I unlocked the door and as we entered called out to Mrs Hudson. 

Our landlady arrived instantly, took one look at the young lady and said, “You come with me.  We’ll get you sorted out.”  Then she added, “Are you going back out, Doctor?”

“No,” I replied.  “I need to stay in case anyone comes looking for our new guest.  And besides which if I venture outside I could well be lost within a hundred paces.”

She nodded.  “In which case, I suggest you return to your rooms.  I have shut the window and they are now in a suitable state for receiving visitors.  Ethel can bring your guest up to you when she is ready.”  I went to say something, but she forestalled me.  “And if we find the young lady needs medical attention, rather than just a wash and a change of clothes, be sure we will fetch you immediately.”

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About half an hour later there was a knock on the door to our rooms and Ethel came in bringing a tray with tea and sandwiches, and followed by the young lady. 

Ethel placed the tray on the table and said, “Do you want me to stay with you, miss?”

Our visitor smiled and replied, “No, thank you, Ethel.  I’m sure I will be quite safe with Dr Watson.  And thank you for the loan of your clothes.”

“I’m sorry they ain’t what you’re used to, miss.”

“Not at all.  They are warm and practical and have been well cared for, all of which I value highly at the moment.”

Ethel bobbed a curtsey and departed.

“I’m afraid you find me at a disadvantage,” I said.  “You know my name, but am I permitted to know yours?”

She smiled.  “I’m so sorry, Doctor.  I feel as if we’ve known each other much longer than just one hour.  My name is Violet Fitzgerald.”

I endeavoured to conceal my surprise at the mention of her name.  There had been much speculation in the press a week or two earlier regarding the arrival in London of the young heiress.  Instead a poured us both some tea and offered her a sandwich.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” I asked.

“No, thank you.  I understand from Mrs Hudson that Mr Sherlock Holmes will return later.  I am hopeful that he will know what to do, and until such time I do not see there is anything else to be done.  Except, of course, to thank you profoundly for coming to my assistance and continuing to keep me safe.”

“It was, and will remain, my pleasure.”

As she seemed reluctant to engage in further conversation, I did not press her, but picked up the newspaper and, turning to the sports section, began reading.

Miss Fitzgerald wandered around the room, looking at the books, occasionally taking one out to study it further, before returning it to the shelf.  I watched her covertly, but her behaviour simply reminded me of someone passing their time at a station bookstall while they waited for their train.  I was not, therefore, unduly concerned.

It must have been about an hour later that Holmes returned.

“Ah, Miss Fitzgerald,” he said, “I am pleased to see you looking so well, clearly our good doctor has taken good care of you.”

“Thank you,” she said, “as have Mrs Hudson and Ethel.”

“And you will be glad to know that most of the principals have been arrested.  However, I am not entirely convinced it would be wise for you to return home as yet.”

“No, I would not be happy returning at the moment.  I have very sadly learned that those I thought I could rely on were no more trustworthy than those I was wary of.”

Holmes nodded.  “Have you any suggestions you wish to make?”

“One occurs to me.  I noticed among your books you have one on beekeeping.  It reminded me of a nursemaid I used to have.  She married a few years’ ago and moved to Sussex with her husband.  When she writes to me, she tells me of her pleasure at keeping bees, and always says how, if I am ever in any trouble, she would always be there for me.  I believe I could stay with her for a little while.”

“Then I suggest we go as soon as possible.  You know her address?”

She smiled.  “I do.”

“Then if Watson would consult the Bradshaw, you can send a telegram to her, warning her of our arrival this evening, as the sooner you leave London the better.  There still remain a man and a woman who I fear could cause trouble.”

“I cannot arrive just as I am,” she protested.

Holmes looked at her in some surprise, so I hurried to interject.  “Miss Fitzgerald will need certain essentials, plus she has no money.  She will need to return home for them.”

“That may not be wise,” Holmes said.  “However, if Mrs Hudson and Ethel were to go and pack a small bag, meeting us at the railway station, this should suffice.”

Miss Fitzgerald agreed, and matters were put in hand.  We took a cab to the station, where we were met by Mrs Hudson and Ethel, who handed her a bag containing some clothing and other essentials, together with a small purse. 

I noticed in return that Miss Fitzgerald pressed something into Mrs Hudson’s hand.  I discovered afterwards that this was money to replace Ethel’s clothing, which the young lady was still wearing.  I thought that most handsome of her.

We were met at the railway station by the old nursemaid’s husband, who explained his wife had remained at home with their two small children.  We were conveyed to their cottage by a smart dogcart and Miss Fitzgerald was welcomed warmly by the nursemaid. 

Satisfied that the young lady was in good hands, we took ourselves to the nearby inn to spend the night, since we had missed the last train back.  I suspect she spent a more comfortable night than we did.

The following morning we returned to the cottage, where Holmes made certain arrangements and then we took the train back to London.

In the train, I said to Holmes, “I hadn’t realised you were so interested in beekeeping.”

“When I retire,” he said, and I noticed he said ‘when’ not ‘if’, “I plan to take up beekeeping.  And I believe that Sussex might well be the ideal county for us to do so.”