My practice has extended recently to the Continent, said Holmes after a while, filling up his old brier-root pipe.

I was consulted last week by Francois le Villard, who, as you probably know, has come rather to the front lately in the French detective service.

He has all the Celtic power of quick intuition, but he is deficient in the wide range of exact knowledge which is essential to the higher developments of his art.

The case was concerned with a will and possessed some features of interest.

I was able to refer him to two parallel cases, the one at Riga in 1857, and the other at St. Louis in 1871, which have suggested to him the true solution.

Here is the letter which I had this morning acknowledging my assistance.

He tossed over, as he spoke, a crumpled sheet of foreign notepaper.

I glanced my eyes down it, catching a profusion of notes of admiration, with stray magnifiques, coup-de-matres and tours-de-force, all testifying to the ardent admiration of the Frenchman.

He speaks as a pupil to his master, said I.

Oh, he rates my assistance too highly, said Sherlock Holmes lightly.