The Star of India by Carole Bugge Read Free Book Online

tide and swept out to sea. I followed Holmes down the steep embankment. Mrs. Campbell stood at the top anxiously watching our progress, shawl blowing in the breeze, her short figure silhouetted against the increasingly stormy sky. I felt a few droplets of rain as Holmes and I made our way down the scraggly slope, our feet slipping and sliding on the loose pebbles which rolled down the hill and plunged into the foaming white water below.
    “Steady on, Watson,” said Holmes as my foot slipped and I slid a few feet down the muddy incline. I nodded and tried to pick my way more carefully, looking for footholds on the slippery bank. Finally we made it down to an overhanging ledge, with about ten feet of rocks between us and the rushing water below. Holmes stepped carefully along the ledge, his eyes searching the rocks for any sign of an indentation.
    “There—look, Watson, there it is!” he cried suddenly, pointing to a gap in the rocks where water was pouring in. It did indeed appear to be a cave set in the side of the cliff; the water which flowed in did not seem to be coming back out. “The tide, Watson; it’s rushing in—we must hurry!” he said. I followed Holmes as he scrambled down the ragged, jutting rocks, cutting my hands on their jagged edges as I went.
    We reached the entrance of the cave and looked inside. It was very black, and my heart sank when I saw that the water had already begun to rise inside so that it was at least a foot deep. Holmes did not hesitate,though, and plunged right into the freezing water. I took a deep breath and followed him.
    The water on England’s west coast, fed by northern oceanic currents, never reaches anything near swimming temperature, and the shock of that water took my breath away. It was icy and biting, making my legs feel numb within seconds of contact. Holmes strode on ahead, though, and I trudged after him, puffing in an attempt to regain my wind.
    Within moments we heard what we had come for. From the center of the horrible damp darkness came a sound which was more welcome to my ears than any I could imagine: Through the pounding of the surf upon the rocks, we heard the faint but unmistakable sound of Mrs. Hudson’s voice calling to us.
    “Mrs. Hudson!” bellowed Holmes.
    “Here—over here!” came her voice from the depths of rock and water. As my eyes became accustomed to the darkness I could just make out the figure of a woman huddled against a rock. Within seconds Holmes and I had splashed our way over to her and Holmes held her in his arms.
    “Oh, Mr. Holmes, I thought I was—oh, thank God, thank God—oh, Dr. Watson!” she babbled, quite hysterical. I can’t say that I blamed her. When I thought of the fate from which we had narrowly saved her, I think I would have been hysterical myself.
    Holmes carried her back across the torrent of water. The tide was truly pouring in in earnest now, and, in the onslaught of foaming seawater, he lost his footing and stumbled.
    “Are you all right, Holmes?” I called over the din of rushing water.
    “Yes, Watson—we must get out as quickly as possible!” he called back, and we pressed on. I couldn’t feel my legs at all now. The water had risen past my knees, and the numbness was creeping up my body. Still, we sloshed our way through the torrent of incoming tide, and finally reached the safety of the rock ledge. I climbed upon the slipperyshelf and Holmes handed Mrs. Hudson up to me. Then, with one final burst of energy, Holmes pulled himself up onto the rock, just as a spray of water hit and threatened to suck us all back into the deluge which we had so narrowly escaped.
    It was only then that I noticed Mrs. Hudson was bound hand and foot. Even if she had the heart to try to escape through that terrifying black cave, she would have been unable to do so. I quickly loosened her bonds, but she was still beside herself with emotion.
    “Oh, Dr. Watson!” she cried, and fell weeping upon my shoulder. I looked at