"What happened in the carriage to make the Prince attack Moran?" Moriarty asked Mary.
"I can't be sure. Moran said something to the Prince just as we left the barn; he screamed bloody murder and went for Moran's throat. I'm just glad that Moran said whatever he said," Mary replied.
"Whatever the reason, it looks like Jack the Ripper probably saved your life," observed Moriarty.
That was when it occurred to me that I had seen no sign of Holmes since the carriage had overturned.
"His footprints lead off away from the asylum," said Moriarty. "There was some blood, but I lost the trail about a quarter of a mile to the east. I have no doubt that we will be hearing from Mr. Sherlock Holmes again."
"The train is late," I said, snapping the cover on my watch closed. Mary reached out, took my hand and smiled. Her left arm hung in a sling, a reminder of our encounter with the other Holmes.
All right, I admit that I was more than a bit nervous. Frankly, considering what had happened to me over the last few days, I would say that I had every right to be.
This wasn't Victoria Station by any means, but, rather, a country train depot. In fact, it could have been a waiting room in any depot from Liverpool to Glasgow. There were a few people lingering around the waiting area. Professor Moriarty sat with a notebook on his lap, eyes half closed, every so often jotting down a few words or numerical notations. Occasionally I heard the now familiar sounds of the small metal balls clicking together as he rolled them across his palm.
Mary and I had talked for some time, but in the last few minutes both of us had lapsed into a silence, broken only by an occasional reassuring smile.
"I believe that the train is arriving," Mary said.
The familiar sounds of a steam locomotive filled the station. From the west I could see its lights, hear the metal on metal sound of its brakes, and moments later watch the steam cloud cut across the platform as it slid to a stop.
Moriarty extracted his watch from a vest pocket. "Nine and a half minutes late; mathematically insignificant, especially considering the distance that it had to travel."
A number of people emerged from the train. Most went right to the baggage compartment, while a few lingered around, looking slightly confused. A familiar figure in frock coat and top hat, carrying a walking cane, cut his way through the crowd.
"Holmes, over here," I called out.
I must confess that until that moment I had harbored the slightest fear that all of my memories of the other world had been one long dream.
"Watson, old fellow. It is good to see you." Holmes said grasping my hand. "I have had the most remarkable journey and have seen things that even surprised me."
"They must have been a remarkable sight, then," I said.
"They were. I am sure the return journey will present even more astounding sights," he said.
I glanced at Mary. Her eyes had that remarkable wisdom that I had always looked to for strength and support.
"Holmes, where are my manners," I said "Let me introduce you to-"
"It is my pleasure, Dr. Morstan."
"I am honored, Mr. Holmes. You seem as remarkable as John has described you. Since John has explained how you both came to know my other self, I would be most interested in how you reasoned that I am a doctor."
Holmes flashed a familiar grin. "Simplicity in itself. A number of signs gave your profession away. I shall mention only two: the slight stain of silver nitrate on your uninjured hand, plus I noticed the ear piece of a stethoscope protruding from your sleeve. Since I see Watson is still carrying his in his hat, I reasoned that it most likely belonged to another doctor, you in this case," he said.
"Remarkable!" Mary laughed.
"Elementary," said Holmes. "Wouldn't you agree, Professor?"
"Indeed I would, Holmes. I note you did not fail to make use of the station's wall mirror to note my approach."
"A simple precaution, given our history. One I'm sure you would have taken had the positions been reversed."
"Indeed, you prove once again why your doppelganger has proved so elusive for these many years," chuckled Moriarty. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Sherlock Holmes,"
"The pleasure is mine, Professor Moriarty," Holmes said.
I then saw something I never in my life had expected to see: Sherlock Holmes shaking hands with Professor Moriarty.
"The note that you sent was fascinating in its implications," said Holmes.
"You had no trouble with the formulas that I suggested?"
"None. It was simply a matter of reorienting one's perceptions of the world around us to direct the train to this particular station and your world," said Holmes. "I doubt the other passengers ever noticed the difference."
"Then there should be no problem in allowing you and Watson to return, by the next train, to your world." Moriarty pulled a time table from his pocket. "Which should depart in just a bit over ten minutes, if this schedule is correct."
It was time. I squeezed Mary's hand once more before speaking. "Unfortunately, I will not be returning with Holmes."
"Indeed. And would I be wrong in assuming that at least part of your reason for remaining is Dr. Morstan?" asked Holmes. I noticed he had a very large grin on his face as he spoke.
"You would be exactly on the mark. In our world, the path for a female physician is especially difficult. Here, though not common, they are accepted more easily. As a general surgeon, I can practice anywhere. Save for a few distant cousins, I have no family left. Beyond yourself and a few other friends, none will miss me. The Professor has offered to help establish my credentials in this world," I said.
"There is then marriage in the offing?" asked Moriarty.
"Perhaps," I said.
They both knew there was, as did Mary and I. True, I had not formally proposed, but that was a matter I fully intended to correct very soon. "For now, we are definitely going into medical partnership."
"Well, Professor, it seems a good thing that I did not accept your wager," said Holmes.
"Wager?" I asked.
At that moment both Holmes and Moriarty had the same sort of twinkle in their eyes.
"Oh yes, did I forget to mention the wager that the Professor offered me? It seems that he appended a note to his missive containing the formulas for traveling here. He suggested that you might have decided to remain here, even offered to bet me ten pounds that you would.
"I did not accept that wager because, though you have been steady as a river throughout our friendship, you have at times surprised even me. From the things told me I had the feeling that this might just be one of those times." A porter appeared carrying two large carpetbags. "I also took the precaution of bringing some of your things I thought you might wish to retain in your new home."
"My thanks. Will my disappearance cause you any problems?"
"None that cannot be handled. I think with the aid of your friend, Dr. Doyle, we should be able to maintain the fiction that you are still writing your chronicles of my minor adventures."
Doyle was a good man, a decent physician and an excellent writer of historical tales. He had recommended me to the editors of the Strand Magazine when I had first begun to seek publication for my work. Doyle's only problem was he had an annoying habit of forgetting my name and calling me James.
"Then this is good-bye?"
"Let us simply say Auf Wiedersehen, Watson. I would not rule out the possibility that we will see each other again."
I watched as Holmes strode across the platform. He had only just stepped inside one of the first-class compartments when I noticed a conductor, with a worried expression on his face, approaching him.