I am her only relative on earth, and Cromwell has set a price on my head.

Should I perish, she will be without a protector." John Stevens was astonished at the strange request, but consented to accept the charge, provided he should be spared and Mr.Holmes should perish.
Mr.Holmes was not mistaken in his surmises about the weather.

The day of this interview was the nineteenth of September, and before night the sky was obscured by great fleecy clouds, and in the evening the rain fell in torrents.

The firmament darkened apace; sudden night came on, and the horrors of extreme darkness were rendered still more horrible by the peals of thunder which made the sphere tremble, and the frequent flashes of lightning, which served only to show the horror of the situation, and then leave them in darkness still more intense.

The wind grew more violent, and a heavy sea, raised by its force, united to add to the dangers of the situation.
"It is coming," Mr.Holmes whispered to John, whom he met in the gangway.
"We are going to have a terrible storm," John answered.
"Yes; remember your promise." "I will not forget it, Mr.Holmes; but why do you refer to it?
Surely you are as likely as I to outlive the tempest." "No, no," Mr.Holmes answered, shaking his white head despairingly, "I have an impression that my time has surely come." John Stevens was startled by the remark, for he too was living in the shadow of some expected calamity.