CasselFelstein, and hereditary King of Bohemia."
"But you can understand," said our strange visitor, sitting down
once more and passing his hand over his high white forehead, "you
can understand that I am not accustomed to doing such business in
my own person. Yet the matter was so delicate that I could not
confide it to an agent without putting myself in his power. I have
come incognito from Prague for the purpose of consulting you."
"Then, pray consult," said Holmes, shutting his eyes once more.
"The facts are briefly these: Some five years ago, during a
lengthy visit to Warsaw, I made the acquaintance of the wellknown
adventuress, Irene Adler. The name is no doubt farmiliar to you."
"Kindly look her up in my index, Doctor," murmured Holmes
without opening his eyes. For many years he had adopted a system
of docketing all paragraphs concerning men and things, so that it
was difficult to name a subject or a person on which he could not
at once furnish information. In this case I found her biography
sandwiched in between that of a Hebrew rabbi and that of a
staff-commander who had written a monograph upon the deep-sea
fishes.
"Let me see!" said Holmes. "Hum! Born in New Jersey in the
year 1858. Contralto -- hum! La Scala, hum! Prima donna Imperial
Opera of Warsaw -- yes! Retired from operatic stage -- ha! Living
in London -- quite so! Your Majesty, as I understand, became
entangled with this young person, wrote her some compromising
letters, and is now desirous of getting those letters back."
"Precisely so. But how --"
"Was there a secret marriage?"
"None."
"No legal papers or certificates?"
"None."
"Then I fail to follow your Majesty. If this young person should
produce her letters for blackmailing or other purposes, how is she
to prove their authenticity?"
"There is the writing."
"Pooh, pooh! Forgery."
"My private note-paper."
"Stolen."
"My own seal."
"Imitated."
"My photograph."
"Bought."
"We were both in the photograph."
"Oh, dear! That is very bad! Your Majesty has indeed
committed an indiscretion."
"I was mad -- insane."
"You have compromised yourself seriously."
"I was only Crown Prince then. I was young. I am but thirty
now."
"It must be recovered."
"We have tried and failed."
"Your Majesty must pay. It must be bought."
"She will not sell."
"Stolen, then."
"Five attempts have been made. Twice burglars in my pay
ransacked her house. Once we diverted her luggage when she
travelled. Twice she has been waylaid. There has been no result."
"No sign of it?"
"Absolutely none."
Holmes laughed. "It is quite a pretty little problem," said he.
"But a very serious one to me," returned the King reproachfully.
"Very, indeed. And what does she propose to do with the
photograph?"
"To ruin me."
"But how?"
"I am about to be married."
"So I have heard."
"To Clotilde Lothman von Saxe-Meningen, second daughter of
the King of Scandinavia. You may know the stnct principles of her
family. She is herself the very soul of delicacy. A shadow of a
doubt as to my conduct would bring the matter to an end."
"And Irene Adler?"
"Threatens to send them the photograph. And she will do it. I
know that she will do it. You do not know her, but she has a soul
of steel. She has the face of the most beautiful of women, and the
mind of the most resolute of men. Rather than I should marry
another woman, there are no lengths to which she would not go --
none."
"You are sure that she has not sent it yet?"
"I am sure."
"And why?"
"Because she has said that she would send it on the day when
the betrothal was publicly proclaimed. That will be next Monday."
"Oh, then we have three days yet," said Holmes with a yawn.
"That is very fortunate, as I have one or two matters of importance
to look into just at present. Your Majesty will, of course, stay in
London for the present?"
"Certainly. You will find me at the Langham under the name of
the Count Von Kramm."
"Then I shall drop you a line to let you know how we progress."
"Pray do so. I shall be all anxiety."
"Then, as to money?"
"You have carte blanche."
"Absolutely?"
"I tell you that I would give one of the provinces of my kingdom
to have that photograph."
"And for present expenses?"
The King took a heavy chamois leather bag from under his cloak
and laid it on the table.
"There are three hundred pounds in gold and seven hundred in
notes," he said.
Holmes scribbled a receipt upon a sheet of his note-book and
handed it to him.
"And Mademoiselle's address?" he asked.
"Is Briony Lodge, Serpentine Avenue, St. John's Wood."
Holmes took a note of it. "One other question," said he. "Was
the photograph a cabinet?"
"It was."
"Then, good-night, your Majesty, and I trust that we shall soon
have some good news for you. And good-night, Watson," he
added, as the wheels of the royal brougham rolled down the street.
"If you wlll be good enough to call to-morrow afternoon at three
o'clock I should like to chat this little matter over with you."
At three o'clock precisely I was at Baker Street, but Holmes had
not yet returned. The landlady informed me that he had left the
house shortly after eight o'clock in the morning. I sat down beside
the fire, however, with the intention of awaiting him, however long
he might be. I was already deeply interested in his inquiry, for,
though it was surrounded by none of the grim and strange features
which were associated with the two crimes which I have already
recorded, still, the nature of the case and the exalted station of his
client gave it a character of its own. Indeed, apart from the nature
of the investigation which my friend had on hand, there was
something in his masterly grasp of a situation, and his keen,
incisive reasoning, which made it a pleasure to me to study his
system of work, and to follow the quick, subtle methods by which
he disentangled the most inextricable mysteries. So accustomed
was I to his invariable success that the very possibility of his
failing had ceased to enter into my head.
It was close upon four before the door opened, and a
drunkenlooking groom, ill-kempt and side-whiskered, with an
inflamed face and disreputable clothes, walked into the room.
Accustomed as I was to my friend's amazing powers in the use of
disguises, I had to look three times before I was certain that it was
indeed he. With a nod he vanished into the bedroom, whence he
emerged in five minutes tweed-suited and respectable, as of old.
Putting his hands into his pockets, he stretched out his legs in front
of the fire and laughed heartily for some minutes.
"Well, really!" he cried, and then he choked and laughed again
until he was obliged to lie back, limp and helpless, in the chair.
"What is it?"
"It's quite too funny. I am sure you could never guess how I
employed my morning, or what I ended by doing."
"I can't imagine. I suppose that you have been watching the
habits, and perhaps the house, of Miss Irene Adler."
"Quite so; but the sequel was rather unusual. I will tell you,
however. I left the house a little after eight o'clock this morning in
the character of a groom out of work. There is a wonderful
sympathy and freemasonry among horsy men. Be one of them, and
you will know all that there is to know. I soon found Briony
Lodge. It is a bijou villa, with a garden at the back. but built out in
front right up to the road, two stories. Chubb lock to the door.
Large sitting-room on the right side, well furnished, with long
windows almost to the floor, and those preposterous English
window fasteners which a child could open. Behind there was
nothing remarkable, save that the passage window could be
reached from the top of the coach-house. I walked round it and
examined it closely from every point of view, but without noting
anything else of interest.
"I then lounged down the street and found, as I expected, that
there was a mews in a lane which runs down by one wall of the
garden. I lent the ostlers a hand in rubbing down their horses, and
received in exchange twopence, a glass of half and half, two fills of
shag tobacco, and as much information as I could desire about
Miss Adler, to say nothing of half a dozen other people in the
neighbourhood in whom I was not in the least interested, but
whose biographies I was compelled to listen to."
"And what of Irene Adler?" I asked.
"Oh, she has turned all the men's heads down in that part. She is
the daintiest thing under a bonnet on this planet. So say the
Serpentine-mews, to a man. She lives quietly, sings at concerts,
drives out at five every day, and returns at seven sharp for dinner.
Seldom goes out at other times, except when she sings. Has only
one male visitor, but a good deal of him. He is dark, handsome,
and dashing, never calls less than once a day, and often twice. He
is a Mr. Godfrey Norton, of the Inner Temple. See the advantages
of a cabman as a confidant. They had driven him home a dozen
times from Serpentine-mews, and knew all about him. When I had
listened to all they had to tell, I began to walk up and down near
Briony Lodge once more, and to think over my plan of campaign.
"This Godfrey Norton was evidently an important factor in the
matter. He was a lawyer. That sounded ominous. What was the
relation between them, and what the object of his repeated visits?
Was she his client, his friend, or his mistress? If the former, she
had probably transferred the photograph to his keeping. If the
latter, it was less likely. On the issue of this question depended
whether I should continue my work at Briony Lodge, or turn my
attention to the gentleman's chambers in the Temple. It was a
delicate point. and it widened the field of my inquiry. I fear that I
bore you with these details, but I have to let you see my little
difficulties. if you are to understand the situation."
"I am following you closely," I answered.
"I was still balancing the matter in my mind when a hansom cab
drove up to Briony Lodge, and a gentleman sprang out. He was a
remarkably handsome man, dark, aquiline, and moustached --
evidently the man of whom I had heard. He appeared to be in a
great hurry, shouted to the cabman to wait, and brushed past the
maid who opened the door with the air of a man who was
thoroughly at home.
"He was in the house about half an hour, and I could catch
glimpses of him in the windows of the sitting-room, pacing up and
down, talking excitedly, and waving his arms. Of her I could see
nothing. Presently he emerged, looking even more flurried than
before. As he stepped up to the cab, he pulled a gold watch from
his pocket and looked at it earnestly, 'Drive like the devil,' he
shouted, 'first to Gross & Hankey's in Regent Street, and then to
the Church of St. Monica in the Edgeware Road. Half a guinea if
you do it in twenty minutes!'
"Away they went, and I was just wondering whether I should
not do well to follow them when up the lane came a neat little
landau, the coachman with his coat only half-buttoned, and his tie
under his ear, while all the tags of his harness were sticking out of
the buckles. It hadn't pulled up before she shot out of the hall door
and into it. I only caught a glimpse of her at the moment, but she
was a lovely woman, with a face that a man might die for.
" 'The Church of St. Monica, John,' she cried, 'and half a
sovereign if you reach it in twenty minutes.'
"This was quite too good to lose, Watson. I was just balancing
whether I should run for it, or whether I should perch behind her
landau when a cab came through the street. The driver looked
twice at such a shabby fare, but I jumped in before he could object.
'The Church of St. Monica,' said I, 'and half a sovereign if you
reach it in twenty minutes.' It was twenty-five minutes to twelve,
and of course it was clear enough what was in the wind.
"My cabby drove fast. I don't think I ever drove faster, but the
others were there before us. The cab and the landau with their
steaming horses were in front of the door when I arrived. I paid the
man and hurried into the church. There was not a soul there save
the two whom I had followed and a surpliced clergyman, who
seemed to be expostulating with them. They were all three
standing in a knot in front of the altar. I lounged up the side aisle
like any other idler who has dropped into a church. Suddenly, to
my surprise, the three at the altar faced round to me, and Godfrey
Norton came running as hard as he could towards me.
" 'Thank God,' he cried. 'You'll do. Come! Come!'
" 'What then?' I asked.
" 'Come, man, come, only three minutes, or it won't be legal.'
"I was half-dragged up to the altar, and before I knew where I
was I found myself mumbling responses which were whispered in
my ear. and vouching for things of which I knew nothing, and
generally assisting in the secure tying up of Irene Adler, spinster,
to Godfrey Norton, bachelor. It was all done in an instant, and
there was the gentleman thanking me on the one side and the lady
on the other, while the clergyman beamed on me in front. It was
the most preposterous position in which I ever found myself in my
life, and it was the thought of it that started me laughing just now.
It seems that there had been some informality about their license,
that the clergyman absolutely refused to marry them without a
witness of some sort, and that my lucky appearance saved the
bridegroom from having to sally out into the streets in search of a
best man. The bride gave me a sovereign, and I mean to wear it on
my watch-chain in memory of the occasion."
"This is a very unexpected turn of affairs," said l; "and what
then?"
"Well, I found my plans very seriously menaced. It looked as if
the pair might take an immediate departure, and so necessitate very
prompt and energetic measures on my part. At the church door,
however, they separated, he driving back to the Temple, and she to
her own house. 'I shall drive out in the park at five as usual,' she
said as she left him. I heard no more. They drove away in different
directions, and I went off to make my own arrangements."
"Which are?"
"Some cold beef and a glass of beer," he answered, ringing the
bell. "I have been too busy to think of food, and I am likely to be
busier still this evening. By the way, Doctor, I shall want your
cooperation."
"I shall be delighted."
"You don't mind breaking the law?"
"Not in the least."
"Nor running a chance of arrest?"
"Not in a good cause."
"Oh, the cause is excellent!"
"Then I am your man."
"I was sure that I might rely on you."
"But what is it you wish?"
"When Mrs. Turner has brought in the tray I will make it clear to
you. Now," he said as he turned hungrily on the simple fare that
our landlady had provided, "I must discuss it while I eat, for I have
not much time. It is nearly five now. In two hours we must be on
the scene of action. Miss Irene, or Madame, rather, returns from
her drive at seven. We must be at Briony Lodge to meet her."
"And what then?"
"You must leave that to me. I have already arranged what is to
occur. There is only one point on which I must insist. You must
not interfere, come what may. You understand?"
"I am to be neutral?"
"To do nothing whatever. There will probably be some small
unpleasantness. Do not join in it. It will end in my being conveyed
into the house. Four or five minutes afterwards the sitting-room
window will open. You are to station yourself close to that open
window."
"Yes."
"You are to watch me, for I will be visible to you."
"Yes."
"And when I raise my hand -- so -- you will throw into the room
what I give you to throw, and will, at the same time, raise the cry
of fire. You quite follow me?"
"Entirely."
"It is nothing very formidable," he said, taking a long
cigarshaped roll from his pocket. "It is an ordinary plumber's
smokerocket, fitted with a cap at either end to make it self-lighting.
Your task is confined to that. When you raise your cry of fire, it
will be taken up by quite a number of people. You may then walk
to the end of the street, and I will rejoin you in ten minutes. I hope
that I have made myself clear?"
"I am to remain neutral, to get near the window, to watch you,
and at the signal to throw in this object, then to raise the cry of fire,
and to wait you at the comer of the street."
"Precisely."
"Then you may entirely rely on me."
"That is excellent. I think, perhaps, it is almost time that I
prepare for the new role I have to play."
He disappeared into his bedroom and returned in a few minutes
in the character of an amiable and simple-minded Nonconformist
clergyman. His broad black hat, his baggy trousers. his white tie,
his sympathetic smile, and general look of peering and benevolent
curiosity were such as Mr. John Hare alone could have equalled. It
was not merely that Holmes changed his costume. His expression,
his manner, his very soul seemed to vary with every fresh part that
he assumed. The stage lost a fine actor, even as science lost an
acute reasoner, when he became a specialist in crime.
It was a quarter past six when we left Baker Street, and it still
wanted ten minutes to the hour when we found ourselves in
Serpentine Avenue. It was already dusk, and the lamps were just
being lighted as we paced up and down in front of Briony Lodge,
waiting for the coming of its occupant. The house was just such as
I had pictured it from Sherlock Holmes's succinct description, but
the locality appeared to be less private than I expected. On the
contrary, for a small street in a quiet neighbourhood, it was
remarkably animated. There was a group of shabbily dressed men
smoking and laughing in a corner, a scissors-grinder with his
wheel, two guardsmen who were flirting with a nurse-girl, and
several well-dressed young men who were lounging up and down
with cigars in their mouths.
"You see," remarked Holmes, as we paced to and fro in front of
the house, "this marriage rather simplifies matters. The photograph
becomes a double-edged weapon now. The chances are that she
would be as averse to its being seen by Mr. Godfrey Norton, as our
client is to its coming to the eyes of his princess. Now the question
is, Where are we to find the photograph?"
"Where, indeed?"
"It is most unlikely that she carries it about with her. It is cabinet
size. Too large for easy concealment about a woman's dress. She
knows that the King is capable of having her waylaid and searched.
Two attempts of the sort have already been made. We may take it,
then, that she does not carry it about with her."
"Where, then?"
"Her banker or her lawyer. There is that double possibility. But I
am inclined to think neither. Women are naturally secretive, and
they like to do their own secreting. Why should she hand it over to
anyone else? She could trust her own guardianship, but she could
not tell what indirect or political influence might be brought to
bear upon a business man. Besides, remember that she had
resolved to use it within a few days. It must be where she can lay
her hands upon it. It must be in her own house."
"But it has twice been burgled."
"Pshaw! They did not know how to look."
"But how will you look?"
"I will not look."
"What then?"
"I will get her to show me."
"But she will refuse."
"She will not be able to. But I hear the rumble of wheels. It is
hcr carriage. Now carry out my orders to the letter."
As he spoke the gleam of the side-lights of a carriage came
round the curve of the avenue. It was a smart little landau which
rattled up to the door of Briony Lodge. As it pulled up, one of the
loafing men at the corner dashed forward to open the door in the
hope of earning a copper, but was elbowed away by another loafer,
who had rushed up with the same intention. A fierce quarrel broke
out, which was increased by the two guardsmen, who took sides
with one of the loungers, and by the scissorsgrinder, who was
equally hot upon the other side. A blow was struck, and in an
instant the lady, who had stepped from her carriage, was the centre
of a little knot of flushed and struggling men, who struck savagely
at each other with their fists and sticks. Holmes dashed into the
crowd to protect the lady; but just as he reached her he gave a cry
and dropped to the ground, with the blood running freely down his
face. At his fall the guardsmen took to their heels in one direction
and the loungers in the other, while a number of better-dressed
people, who had watched the scuffle without taking part in it,
crowded in to help the lady and to attend to the injured man. Irene
Adler, as I will still call her, had hurried up the steps; but she stood
at the top with her superb figure outlined against the lights of the
hall, looking back into the street.
"Is the poor gentleman much hurt?" she asked.
"He is dead," cried several voices.
"No, no, there's life in him!" shouted another. "But he'll be gone
before you can get him to hospital."
"He's a brave fellow," said a woman. "They would have had the
lady's purse and watch if it hadn't been for him. They were a gang,
and a rough one, too. Ah, he's breathing now."
"He can't lie in the street. May we bring him in, marm?"
"Surely. Bring him into the sitting room. There is a comfortable
sofa. This way, please!"
Slowly and solemnly he was borne into Briony Lodge and laid
out in the principal room, while I still observed the proceedings
from my post by the window. The lamps had been lit, but the
blinds had not been drawn, so that I could see Holmes as he lay
upon the couch. I do not know whether he was seized with
compunction at that moment for the part he was playing, but I
know that I never felt more heartily ashamed of myself in my life
than when I saw the beautiful creature against whom I was
conspiring, or the grace and kindliness with which she waited upon
the injured man. And yet it would be the blackest treachery to
Holmes to draw back now from the part which he had intrusted to
me. I hardened my heart, and took the smoke-rocket from under
my ulster. After all, I thought, we are not injuring her. We are but
preventing her from injuring another.
Holmes had sat up upon the couch, and I saw him motion like a
man who is in need of air. A maid rushed across and threw open
the window. At the same instant I saw him raise his hand and at the
signal I tossed my rocket into the room with a cry of "Fire!" The
word was no sooner out of my mouth than the whole crowd of
spectators, well dressed and ill -- gentlemen, ostlers, and
servant-maids -- joined in a general shriek of "Fire!" Thick clouds
of smoke curled through the room and out at the open window. I
caught a glimpse of rushing figures, and a moment later the voice
of Holmes from within assuring them that it was a false alarm.
Slipping through the shouting crowd I made my way to the corner
of the street, and in ten minutes was rejoiced to find my friend's
arm in mine, and to get away from the scene of uproar. He walked
swiftly and in silence for some few minutes until we had turned
down one of the quiet streets which lead towards the Edgeware
Road.
"You did it very nicely, Doctor," he remarked. "Nothing could
have been better. It is all right."
"You have the photograph?"
"I know where it is."
"And how did you find out?"
"She showed me, as I told you she would."
"But you can understand," said our strange visitor, sitting down
once more and passing his hand over his high white forehead, "you
can understand that I am not accustomed to doing such business in
my own person. Yet the matter was so delicate that I could not
confide it to an agent without putting myself in his power. I have
come incognito from Prague for the purpose of consulting you."
"Then, pray consult," said Holmes, shutting his eyes once more.
"The facts are briefly these: Some five years ago, during a
lengthy visit to Warsaw, I made the acquaintance of the wellknown
adventuress, Irene Adler. The name is no doubt farmiliar to you."
"Kindly look her up in my index, Doctor," murmured Holmes
without opening his eyes. For many years he had adopted a system
of docketing all paragraphs concerning men and things, so that it
was difficult to name a subject or a person on which he could not
at once furnish information. In this case I found her biography
sandwiched in between that of a Hebrew rabbi and that of a
staff-commander who had written a monograph upon the deep-sea
fishes.
"Let me see!" said Holmes. "Hum! Born in New Jersey in the
year 1858. Contralto -- hum! La Scala, hum! Prima donna Imperial
Opera of Warsaw -- yes! Retired from operatic stage -- ha! Living
in London -- quite so! Your Majesty, as I understand, became
entangled with this young person, wrote her some compromising
letters, and is now desirous of getting those letters back."
"Precisely so. But how --"
"Was there a secret marriage?"
"None."
"No legal papers or certificates?"
"None."
"Then I fail to follow your Majesty. If this young person should
produce her letters for blackmailing or other purposes, how is she
to prove their authenticity?"
"There is the writing."
"Pooh, pooh! Forgery."
"My private note-paper."
"Stolen."
"My own seal."
"Imitated."
"My photograph."
"Bought."
"We were both in the photograph."
"Oh, dear! That is very bad! Your Majesty has indeed
committed an indiscretion."
"I was mad -- insane."
"You have compromised yourself seriously."
"I was only Crown Prince then. I was young. I am but thirty
now."
"It must be recovered."
"We have tried and failed."
"Your Majesty must pay. It must be bought."
"She will not sell."
"Stolen, then."
"Five attempts have been made. Twice burglars in my pay
ransacked her house. Once we diverted her luggage when she
travelled. Twice she has been waylaid. There has been no result."
"No sign of it?"
"Absolutely none."
Holmes laughed. "It is quite a pretty little problem," said he.
"But a very serious one to me," returned the King reproachfully.
"Very, indeed. And what does she propose to do with the
photograph?"
"To ruin me."
"But how?"
"I am about to be married."
"So I have heard."
"To Clotilde Lothman von Saxe-Meningen, second daughter of
the King of Scandinavia. You may know the stnct principles of her
family. She is herself the very soul of delicacy. A shadow of a
doubt as to my conduct would bring the matter to an end."
"And Irene Adler?"
"Threatens to send them the photograph. And she will do it. I
know that she will do it. You do not know her, but she has a soul
of steel. She has the face of the most beautiful of women, and the
mind of the most resolute of men. Rather than I should marry
another woman, there are no lengths to which she would not go --
none."
"You are sure that she has not sent it yet?"
"I am sure."
"And why?"
"Because she has said that she would send it on the day when
the betrothal was publicly proclaimed. That will be next Monday."
"Oh, then we have three days yet," said Holmes with a yawn.
"That is very fortunate, as I have one or two matters of importance
to look into just at present. Your Majesty will, of course, stay in
London for the present?"
"Certainly. You will find me at the Langham under the name of
the Count Von Kramm."
"Then I shall drop you a line to let you know how we progress."
"Pray do so. I shall be all anxiety."
"Then, as to money?"
"You have carte blanche."
"Absolutely?"
"I tell you that I would give one of the provinces of my kingdom
to have that photograph."
"And for present expenses?"
The King took a heavy chamois leather bag from under his cloak
and laid it on the table.
"There are three hundred pounds in gold and seven hundred in
notes," he said.
Holmes scribbled a receipt upon a sheet of his note-book and
handed it to him.
"And Mademoiselle's address?" he asked.
"Is Briony Lodge, Serpentine Avenue, St. John's Wood."
Holmes took a note of it. "One other question," said he. "Was
the photograph a cabinet?"
"It was."
"Then, good-night, your Majesty, and I trust that we shall soon
have some good news for you. And good-night, Watson," he
added, as the wheels of the royal brougham rolled down the street.
"If you wlll be good enough to call to-morrow afternoon at three
o'clock I should like to chat this little matter over with you."
At three o'clock precisely I was at Baker Street, but Holmes had
not yet returned. The landlady informed me that he had left the
house shortly after eight o'clock in the morning. I sat down beside
the fire, however, with the intention of awaiting him, however long
he might be. I was already deeply interested in his inquiry, for,
though it was surrounded by none of the grim and strange features
which were associated with the two crimes which I have already
recorded, still, the nature of the case and the exalted station of his
client gave it a character of its own. Indeed, apart from the nature
of the investigation which my friend had on hand, there was
something in his masterly grasp of a situation, and his keen,
incisive reasoning, which made it a pleasure to me to study his
system of work, and to follow the quick, subtle methods by which
he disentangled the most inextricable mysteries. So accustomed
was I to his invariable success that the very possibility of his
failing had ceased to enter into my head.
It was close upon four before the door opened, and a
drunkenlooking groom, ill-kempt and side-whiskered, with an
inflamed face and disreputable clothes, walked into the room.
Accustomed as I was to my friend's amazing powers in the use of
disguises, I had to look three times before I was certain that it was
indeed he. With a nod he vanished into the bedroom, whence he
emerged in five minutes tweed-suited and respectable, as of old.
Putting his hands into his pockets, he stretched out his legs in front
of the fire and laughed heartily for some minutes.
"Well, really!" he cried, and then he choked and laughed again
until he was obliged to lie back, limp and helpless, in the chair.
"What is it?"
"It's quite too funny. I am sure you could never guess how I
employed my morning, or what I ended by doing."
"I can't imagine. I suppose that you have been watching the
habits, and perhaps the house, of Miss Irene Adler."
"Quite so; but the sequel was rather unusual. I will tell you,
however. I left the house a little after eight o'clock this morning in
the character of a groom out of work. There is a wonderful
sympathy and freemasonry among horsy men. Be one of them, and
you will know all that there is to know. I soon found Briony
Lodge. It is a bijou villa, with a garden at the back. but built out in
front right up to the road, two stories. Chubb lock to the door.
Large sitting-room on the right side, well furnished, with long
windows almost to the floor, and those preposterous English
window fasteners which a child could open. Behind there was
nothing remarkable, save that the passage window could be
reached from the top of the coach-house. I walked round it and
examined it closely from every point of view, but without noting
anything else of interest.
"I then lounged down the street and found, as I expected, that
there was a mews in a lane which runs down by one wall of the
garden. I lent the ostlers a hand in rubbing down their horses, and
received in exchange twopence, a glass of half and half, two fills of
shag tobacco, and as much information as I could desire about
Miss Adler, to say nothing of half a dozen other people in the
neighbourhood in whom I was not in the least interested, but
whose biographies I was compelled to listen to."
"And what of Irene Adler?" I asked.
"Oh, she has turned all the men's heads down in that part. She is
the daintiest thing under a bonnet on this planet. So say the
Serpentine-mews, to a man. She lives quietly, sings at concerts,
drives out at five every day, and returns at seven sharp for dinner.
Seldom goes out at other times, except when she sings. Has only
one male visitor, but a good deal of him. He is dark, handsome,
and dashing, never calls less than once a day, and often twice. He
is a Mr. Godfrey Norton, of the Inner Temple. See the advantages
of a cabman as a confidant. They had driven him home a dozen
times from Serpentine-mews, and knew all about him. When I had
listened to all they had to tell, I began to walk up and down near
Briony Lodge once more, and to think over my plan of campaign.
"This Godfrey Norton was evidently an important factor in the
matter. He was a lawyer. That sounded ominous. What was the
relation between them, and what the object of his repeated visits?
Was she his client, his friend, or his mistress? If the former, she
had probably transferred the photograph to his keeping. If the
latter, it was less likely. On the issue of this question depended
whether I should continue my work at Briony Lodge, or turn my
attention to the gentleman's chambers in the Temple. It was a
delicate point. and it widened the field of my inquiry. I fear that I
bore you with these details, but I have to let you see my little
difficulties. if you are to understand the situation."
"I am following you closely," I answered.
"I was still balancing the matter in my mind when a hansom cab
drove up to Briony Lodge, and a gentleman sprang out. He was a
remarkably handsome man, dark, aquiline, and moustached --
evidently the man of whom I had heard. He appeared to be in a
great hurry, shouted to the cabman to wait, and brushed past the
maid who opened the door with the air of a man who was
thoroughly at home.
"He was in the house about half an hour, and I could catch
glimpses of him in the windows of the sitting-room, pacing up and
down, talking excitedly, and waving his arms. Of her I could see
nothing. Presently he emerged, looking even more flurried than
before. As he stepped up to the cab, he pulled a gold watch from
his pocket and looked at it earnestly, 'Drive like the devil,' he
shouted, 'first to Gross & Hankey's in Regent Street, and then to
the Church of St. Monica in the Edgeware Road. Half a guinea if
you do it in twenty minutes!'
"Away they went, and I was just wondering whether I should
not do well to follow them when up the lane came a neat little
landau, the coachman with his coat only half-buttoned, and his tie
under his ear, while all the tags of his harness were sticking out of
the buckles. It hadn't pulled up before she shot out of the hall door
and into it. I only caught a glimpse of her at the moment, but she
was a lovely woman, with a face that a man might die for.
" 'The Church of St. Monica, John,' she cried, 'and half a
sovereign if you reach it in twenty minutes.'
"This was quite too good to lose, Watson. I was just balancing
whether I should run for it, or whether I should perch behind her
landau when a cab came through the street. The driver looked
twice at such a shabby fare, but I jumped in before he could object.
'The Church of St. Monica,' said I, 'and half a sovereign if you
reach it in twenty minutes.' It was twenty-five minutes to twelve,
and of course it was clear enough what was in the wind.
"My cabby drove fast. I don't think I ever drove faster, but the
others were there before us. The cab and the landau with their
steaming horses were in front of the door when I arrived. I paid the
man and hurried into the church. There was not a soul there save
the two whom I had followed and a surpliced clergyman, who
seemed to be expostulating with them. They were all three
standing in a knot in front of the altar. I lounged up the side aisle
like any other idler who has dropped into a church. Suddenly, to
my surprise, the three at the altar faced round to me, and Godfrey
Norton came running as hard as he could towards me.
" 'Thank God,' he cried. 'You'll do. Come! Come!'
" 'What then?' I asked.
" 'Come, man, come, only three minutes, or it won't be legal.'
"I was half-dragged up to the altar, and before I knew where I
was I found myself mumbling responses which were whispered in
my ear. and vouching for things of which I knew nothing, and
generally assisting in the secure tying up of Irene Adler, spinster,
to Godfrey Norton, bachelor. It was all done in an instant, and
there was the gentleman thanking me on the one side and the lady
on the other, while the clergyman beamed on me in front. It was
the most preposterous position in which I ever found myself in my
life, and it was the thought of it that started me laughing just now.
It seems that there had been some informality about their license,
that the clergyman absolutely refused to marry them without a
witness of some sort, and that my lucky appearance saved the
bridegroom from having to sally out into the streets in search of a
best man. The bride gave me a sovereign, and I mean to wear it on
my watch-chain in memory of the occasion."
"This is a very unexpected turn of affairs," said l; "and what
then?"
"Well, I found my plans very seriously menaced. It looked as if
the pair might take an immediate departure, and so necessitate very
prompt and energetic measures on my part. At the church door,
however, they separated, he driving back to the Temple, and she to
her own house. 'I shall drive out in the park at five as usual,' she
said as she left him. I heard no more. They drove away in different
directions, and I went off to make my own arrangements."
"Which are?"
"Some cold beef and a glass of beer," he answered, ringing the
bell. "I have been too busy to think of food, and I am likely to be
busier still this evening. By the way, Doctor, I shall want your
cooperation."
"I shall be delighted."
"You don't mind breaking the law?"
"Not in the least."
"Nor running a chance of arrest?"
"Not in a good cause."
"Oh, the cause is excellent!"
"Then I am your man."
"I was sure that I might rely on you."
"But what is it you wish?"
"When Mrs. Turner has brought in the tray I will make it clear to
you. Now," he said as he turned hungrily on the simple fare that
our landlady had provided, "I must discuss it while I eat, for I have
not much time. It is nearly five now. In two hours we must be on
the scene of action. Miss Irene, or Madame, rather, returns from
her drive at seven. We must be at Briony Lodge to meet her."
"And what then?"
"You must leave that to me. I have already arranged what is to
occur. There is only one point on which I must insist. You must
not interfere, come what may. You understand?"
"I am to be neutral?"
"To do nothing whatever. There will probably be some small
unpleasantness. Do not join in it. It will end in my being conveyed
into the house. Four or five minutes afterwards the sitting-room
window will open. You are to station yourself close to that open
window."
"Yes."
"You are to watch me, for I will be visible to you."
"Yes."
"And when I raise my hand -- so -- you will throw into the room
what I give you to throw, and will, at the same time, raise the cry
of fire. You quite follow me?"
"Entirely."
"It is nothing very formidable," he said, taking a long
cigarshaped roll from his pocket. "It is an ordinary plumber's
smokerocket, fitted with a cap at either end to make it self-lighting.
Your task is confined to that. When you raise your cry of fire, it
will be taken up by quite a number of people. You may then walk
to the end of the street, and I will rejoin you in ten minutes. I hope
that I have made myself clear?"
"I am to remain neutral, to get near the window, to watch you,
and at the signal to throw in this object, then to raise the cry of fire,
and to wait you at the comer of the street."
"Precisely."
"Then you may entirely rely on me."
"That is excellent. I think, perhaps, it is almost time that I
prepare for the new role I have to play."
He disappeared into his bedroom and returned in a few minutes
in the character of an amiable and simple-minded Nonconformist
clergyman. His broad black hat, his baggy trousers. his white tie,
his sympathetic smile, and general look of peering and benevolent
curiosity were such as Mr. John Hare alone could have equalled. It
was not merely that Holmes changed his costume. His expression,
his manner, his very soul seemed to vary with every fresh part that
he assumed. The stage lost a fine actor, even as science lost an
acute reasoner, when he became a specialist in crime.
It was a quarter past six when we left Baker Street, and it still
wanted ten minutes to the hour when we found ourselves in
Serpentine Avenue. It was already dusk, and the lamps were just
being lighted as we paced up and down in front of Briony Lodge,
waiting for the coming of its occupant. The house was just such as
I had pictured it from Sherlock Holmes's succinct description, but
the locality appeared to be less private than I expected. On the
contrary, for a small street in a quiet neighbourhood, it was
remarkably animated. There was a group of shabbily dressed men
smoking and laughing in a corner, a scissors-grinder with his
wheel, two guardsmen who were flirting with a nurse-girl, and
several well-dressed young men who were lounging up and down
with cigars in their mouths.
"You see," remarked Holmes, as we paced to and fro in front of
the house, "this marriage rather simplifies matters. The photograph
becomes a double-edged weapon now. The chances are that she
would be as averse to its being seen by Mr. Godfrey Norton, as our
client is to its coming to the eyes of his princess. Now the question
is, Where are we to find the photograph?"
"Where, indeed?"
"It is most unlikely that she carries it about with her. It is cabinet
size. Too large for easy concealment about a woman's dress. She
knows that the King is capable of having her waylaid and searched.
Two attempts of the sort have already been made. We may take it,
then, that she does not carry it about with her."
"Where, then?"
"Her banker or her lawyer. There is that double possibility. But I
am inclined to think neither. Women are naturally secretive, and
they like to do their own secreting. Why should she hand it over to
anyone else? She could trust her own guardianship, but she could
not tell what indirect or political influence might be brought to
bear upon a business man. Besides, remember that she had
resolved to use it within a few days. It must be where she can lay
her hands upon it. It must be in her own house."
"But it has twice been burgled."
"Pshaw! They did not know how to look."
"But how will you look?"
"I will not look."
"What then?"
"I will get her to show me."
"But she will refuse."
"She will not be able to. But I hear the rumble of wheels. It is
hcr carriage. Now carry out my orders to the letter."
As he spoke the gleam of the side-lights of a carriage came
round the curve of the avenue. It was a smart little landau which
rattled up to the door of Briony Lodge. As it pulled up, one of the
loafing men at the corner dashed forward to open the door in the
hope of earning a copper, but was elbowed away by another loafer,
who had rushed up with the same intention. A fierce quarrel broke
out, which was increased by the two guardsmen, who took sides
with one of the loungers, and by the scissorsgrinder, who was
equally hot upon the other side. A blow was struck, and in an
instant the lady, who had stepped from her carriage, was the centre
of a little knot of flushed and struggling men, who struck savagely
at each other with their fists and sticks. Holmes dashed into the
crowd to protect the lady; but just as he reached her he gave a cry
and dropped to the ground, with the blood running freely down his
face. At his fall the guardsmen took to their heels in one direction
and the loungers in the other, while a number of better-dressed
people, who had watched the scuffle without taking part in it,
crowded in to help the lady and to attend to the injured man. Irene
Adler, as I will still call her, had hurried up the steps; but she stood
at the top with her superb figure outlined against the lights of the
hall, looking back into the street.
"Is the poor gentleman much hurt?" she asked.
"He is dead," cried several voices.
"No, no, there's life in him!" shouted another. "But he'll be gone
before you can get him to hospital."
"He's a brave fellow," said a woman. "They would have had the
lady's purse and watch if it hadn't been for him. They were a gang,
and a rough one, too. Ah, he's breathing now."
"He can't lie in the street. May we bring him in, marm?"
"Surely. Bring him into the sitting room. There is a comfortable
sofa. This way, please!"
Slowly and solemnly he was borne into Briony Lodge and laid
out in the principal room, while I still observed the proceedings
from my post by the window. The lamps had been lit, but the
blinds had not been drawn, so that I could see Holmes as he lay
upon the couch. I do not know whether he was seized with
compunction at that moment for the part he was playing, but I
know that I never felt more heartily ashamed of myself in my life
than when I saw the beautiful creature against whom I was
conspiring, or the grace and kindliness with which she waited upon
the injured man. And yet it would be the blackest treachery to
Holmes to draw back now from the part which he had intrusted to
me. I hardened my heart, and took the smoke-rocket from under
my ulster. After all, I thought, we are not injuring her. We are but
preventing her from injuring another.
Holmes had sat up upon the couch, and I saw him motion like a
man who is in need of air. A maid rushed across and threw open
the window. At the same instant I saw him raise his hand and at the
signal I tossed my rocket into the room with a cry of "Fire!" The
word was no sooner out of my mouth than the whole crowd of
spectators, well dressed and ill -- gentlemen, ostlers, and
servant-maids -- joined in a general shriek of "Fire!" Thick clouds
of smoke curled through the room and out at the open window. I
caught a glimpse of rushing figures, and a moment later the voice
of Holmes from within assuring them that it was a false alarm.
Slipping through the shouting crowd I made my way to the corner
of the street, and in ten minutes was rejoiced to find my friend's
arm in mine, and to get away from the scene of uproar. He walked
swiftly and in silence for some few minutes until we had turned
down one of the quiet streets which lead towards the Edgeware
Road.
"You did it very nicely, Doctor," he remarked. "Nothing could
have been better. It is all right."
"You have the photograph?"
"I know where it is."
"And how did you find out?"
"She showed me, as I told you she would."
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