Chapter 12 The Adventure of the Abbey Grange It was on a bitterly cold and frosty morning, towards the end of the winter of '97, that I was awakened by a tugging at my shoulder. It was Holmes. The candle in his hand shone upon his eager, stooping face, and told me at a glance that something was amiss. "Come, Watson, come!" he cried. "The game is afoot. Not a word! Into your clothes and come!" Ten minutes later we were both in a cab, and rattling through the silent streets on our way to Charing Cross Station. The first