2 thoughts on “Canon Thursday: Watson’s Finest Hour

  1. The moment that he realized the Great Agra Treasure was lost.

    “No wonder that it was heavy. The ironwork was two-thirds of an inch thick all round. It was massive, well-made, and solid, like a chest constructed to carry things of great price, but not one shred or crumb of metal or jewellery lay within it. It was absolutely and completely empty.

    “The treasure is lost,” said Miss Morstan, calmly.

    As I listened to the words and realized what they meant, a great shadow seemed to pass from my soul. I did not know how this Agra treasure had weighed me down until now that it was finally removed. It was selfish, no doubt, disloyal, wrong, but I could realize nothing save that the golden barrier was gone from between us.

    “Thank God!” I ejaculated from my very heart.

    She looked at me with a quick, questioning smile.

    “Why do you say that?” she asked.

    “Because you are within my reach again,” I said, taking her hand. She did not withdraw it. “Because I love you, Mary, as truly as ever a man loved a woman. Because this treasure, these riches, sealed my lips. Now that they are gone I can tell you how I love you. That is why I said, `Thank God’.”

    “Then I say `Thank God,’ too,” she whispered, as I drew her to my side.

    Whoever had lost a treasure, I knew that night that I had gained one.

  2. At their final recorded meeting, Watson responds to Holmes’ observation of the “weather” in the manner that had defined their relationship.

    The two friends chatted in intimate converse for a few minutes, recalling once again the days of the past, whilst their prisoner vainly wriggled to undo the bonds that held him. As they turned to the car Holmes pointed back to the moonlit sea and shook a thoughtful head.

    “There’s an east wind coming, Watson.”

    “I think not, Holmes. It is very warm.”

    “Good old Watson! You are the one fixed point in a changing age. There’s an east wind coming all the same, such a wind as never blew on England yet. It will be cold and bitter, Watson, and a good many of us may wither before its blast. But it’s God’s own wind none the less, and a cleaner, better, stronger land will lie in the sunshine when the storm has cleared.

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