One question preoccupied me as I peered into the smoke and heard the roar of the fire and the agonized screams of those caught in its terrible grasp. Where was Holmes? I began to fear the worst. Was this, I wondered, to be the end after all? Was the indomitable Sherlock Holmes to perish in this godforsaken place? The thought was too painful to bear, and I decided that if Holmes was to die, then I should at least have the courtesy to die with him.
