"No, sir, Dr.Becher is an Englishman, and there isn't a man in the parish who has a better-lined waistcoat.

But he has a gentleman staying with him, a patient, as I understand, who is a foreigner, and he looks as if a little good Berkshire beef would do him no harm." The station-master had not finished his speech before we were all hastening in the direction of the fire.

The road topped a low hill, and there was a great widespread whitewashed building in front of us, spouting fire at every chink and window, while in the garden in front three fire-engines were vainly striving to keep the flames under.
"That's it!" cried Hatherley, in intense excitement.

"There is the gravel-drive, and there are the rose-bushes where I lay.

That second window is the one that I jumped from." "Well, at least," said Holmes, "you have had your revenge upon them.