Red Széll

Ah, that does it at last.

With a united effort, we tore off the coffin lid.

As we did so, there came from the inside a stupefying and overpowering smell of chloroform.

A body lay within, its head all wreathed in cotton wool which had been soaked in the narcotic.

Holmes plucked it off and disclosed the statuesque face of a handsome and spiritual woman of middle age.

In an instant, he had passed his arm round the figure and raised her to a sitting position.

Is she gone, Watson?

Is there a spark left?

Surely we are not too late.

For half an hour it seemed that we were.

What with actual suffocation, and what with the poisonous fumes of the chloroform, the Lady Frances seemed to have passed the last point of recall.

And then, at last, with artificial respiration, with injected ether, and with every device that science could suggest,

Some flutter of life, some quiver of the eyelids, some dimming of a mirror, spoke of the slowly returning life.

A cab had driven up, and Holmes, parting the blind, looked out at it.

Here is Lestrade with his warrant, said he.

He will find that his birds have flown, and here, he added, as a heavy step hurried along the passage,

is someone who has a better right to nurse this lady than we have.

Good morning, Mr. Green.

I think that the sooner we can move the Lady Frances, the better.

Meanwhile, the funeral may proceed, and the poor old woman who still lies in that coffin may go to her last resting place alone.