Web
and Book
design,
Copyright, Kellscraft Studio 1999-2010 (Return to Web Text-ures) |
(HOME)
|
ADVENTURES
OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
Adventure
I
A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA I TO
Sherlock Holmes she is always the woman. I have seldom heard him
mention her
under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses and predominates the
whole of
her sex. It was not that he felt any emotion akin to love for Irene
Adler. All
emotions, and that one particularly, were abhorrent to his cold,
precise, but
admirably balanced mind. He was, I take it, the most perfect reasoning
and
observing machine that the world has seen; but, as a lover, he would
have placed
himself in a false position. He never spoke of the softer passions,
save with a
gibe and a sneer. They were admirable things for the observer —
excellent for
drawing the veil from men's motives and actions. But for the trained
reasoner
to admit such intrusions into his own delicate and finely adjusted
temperament
was to introduce a distracting factor which might throw a doubt upon
all his
mental results. Grit in a sensitive instrument, or a crack in one of
his own
high-power lenses, would not be more disturbing than a strong emotion
in a
nature such as his. And yet there was but one woman to him, and that
woman was
the late Irene Adler, of dubious and questionable memory. I had seen
little of Holmes lately. My marriage had drifted us away from each
other. My
own complete happiness, and the home-centred interests which rise up
around the
man who first finds himself master of his own establishment, were
sufficient to
absorb all my attention; while Holmes, who loathed every form of
society with
his whole Bohemian soul, remained in our lodgings in Baker Street,
buried among
his old books, and alternating from week to week between cocaine and
ambition,
the drowsiness of the drug, and the fierce energy of his own keen
nature. He
was still, as ever, deeply attracted by the study of crime, and
occupied his
immense faculties and extraordinary powers of observation in following
out
those clues, and clearing up those mysteries, which had been abandoned
as
hopeless by the official police. From time to time I heard some vague
account
of his doings: of his summons to Odessa in the case of the Trepoff
murder, of
his clearing up of the singular tragedy of the Atkinson brothers at
Trincomalee, and finally of the mission which he had accomplished so
delicately and successfully for the reigning family of Holland. Beyond
these
signs of his activity, however, which I merely shared with all the
readers of
the daily press, I knew little of my former friend and companion. One night
— it was on the 20th of March, 1888--I was returning from a journey to
a
patient (for I had now returned to civil practice), when my way led me
through
Baker Street. As I passed the well-remembered door, which must always
be
associated in my mind with my wooing, and with the dark incidents of
the Study
in Scarlet, I was seized with a keen desire to see Holmes again, and to
know
how he was employing his extraordinary powers. His rooms were
brilliantly lit,
and, even as I looked up, I saw his tall, spare figure pass twice in a
dark
silhouette against the blind. He was pacing the room swiftly, eagerly,
with his
head sunk upon his chest and his hands clasped behind him. to me, who
knew his
every mood and habit, his attitude and manner told their own story. He
was at
work again. He had arisen out of his drug-created dreams, and was hot
upon the
scent of some new problem. I rang the bell, and was shown up to the
chamber
which had formerly been in part my own. His manner
was not effusive. It seldom was; but he was glad, I think, to see me.
With
hardly a word spoken, but with a kindly eye, he waved me to an
arm-chair, threw
across his case of cigars, and indicated a spirit case and a gasogene
in the
corner. Then he stood before the fire, and looked me over in his
singular
introspective fashion. "Wedlock
suits you," he remarked. "I think, Watson, that, you have put on
seven and a half pounds since I saw you." "Seven!"
I answered. "Indeed,
I should have thought a little more. Just a trifle more, I fancy,
Watson. And
in practice again, I observe. You did not tell me that you intended to
go into
harness." "Then,
how do you know?" "I
see it, I deduce it. How do I know that you have been getting yourself
very wet
lately, and that you have a most clumsy and careless servant girl?" "My
dear Holmes," said I, "this is too much. You would certainly have
been burned, had you lived a few centuries ago. It is true that I had a
country
walk on Thursday and came home in a dreadful mess; but, as I have
changed my
clothes, I can't imagine how you deduce it. As to Mary Jane, she is
incorrigible, and my wife has given her notice; but there, again, I
fail to see
how you work it out." He
chuckled to himself and rubbed his long, nervous hands together. "It
is simplicity itself," said he; "my eyes tell me that on the inside
of your left shoe, just where the firelight strikes it, the leather is
scored
by six almost parallel cuts. Obviously they have been caused by some
one who
has very carelessly scraped round the edges of the sole in order to
remove
crusted mud from it. Hence, you see, my double deduction that you had
been out
in vile weather, and that you had a particularly malignant
boot-slitting
specimen of the London slavey. As to your practice, if a gentleman
walks into
my rooms smelling of iodoform, with a black mark of nitrate of silver
upon his
right forefinger, and a bulge on the side of his top-hat to show where
he has
secreted his stethoscope, I must be dull, indeed, if I do not pronounce
him to
be an active member of the medical profession." I could
not help laughing at the ease with which he explained his process of
deduction. "When I hear you give your reasons," I remarked, "the
thing always appears to me to be so ridiculously simple that I could
easily do
it myself, though at each successive instance of your reasoning I am
baffled,
until you explain your process. And yet I believe that my eyes are as
good as
yours." "Quite
so," he answered, lighting a cigarette, and throwing himself down into
an
arm-chair. "You see, but you do riot observe. The distinction is clear.
For example, you have frequently seen the steps which lead up from the
hall to
this room." "Frequently." "How
often?" "Well,
some hundreds of times." "Then
how many are there?" "How
many? I don't know." "Quite
so I You have not observed. And yet you have seen. That is just my
point. Now,
I know that there are seventeen steps, because I have both seen and
observed.
By the-way, since you are interested in these little problems, and
since you
are good enough to chronicle one or two of my trifling experiences, you
may be
interested in this." He threw over a sheet of thick, pink-tinted
note-paper which had been lying open upon the table. "It came by the
last
post," said he. "Read it aloud." The note
was undated, and without either signature or address. "There
will call upon you to-night, at a quarter to eight o'clock," it said,
"a gentleman who desires to consult you upon a matter of the very
deepest
moment. Your recent services to one of the royal houses of Europe have
shown
that you are one who may safely be trusted with matters which are of an
importance which can hardly be exaggerated. This account of you we have
from
all quarters received. Be in your chamber then at that hour, and do not
take it
amiss if your visitor wear a mask." "This
is indeed a mystery," I remarked. "What do you imagine that it
means?" "I
have no data yet. It is a capital mistake to theorize before one has
data.
1nsensibly one begins to twist facts to suit theories, instead of
theories to
suit facts. But the note itself. What do you deduce from it?" I
carefully examined the writing, and the paper upon which it, was
written. "The
man who wrote it was presumably well to do," I remarked, endeavoring to
imitate my companion's processes. "Such paper could not be bought under
half a crown a packet. It is peculiarly strong and stiff." "Peculiar
— that is the very word," said Holmes. "It is not an English paper at
all. Hold it up to the light." I did so,
and saw a large E with a small g, a P, and a
large G
with a small t woven into the texture of the paper. "What
do you make of that?" asked Holmes. "The
name of the maker, no doubt; or his monogram, rather." "Not
at all. The G with the small t stands for
Gesellschaft,' which is
the German for 'Company.' It is a customary contraction like our 'Co.' P,
of course, stands for 'Papier.' Now for the Eg. Let us glance
at our
Continental Gazetteer." He took down a heavy brown volume from his
shelves. "Eglow, Eglonitz — here we are, Egria. It is in a
German-speaking
country — in Bohemia, not far from Carlsbad. 'Remarkable as being the
scene of
the death of Wallenstein, and for its numerous glass-factories and
paper-mills.' Ha, ha, my boy, what do you make of that?" His eyes
sparkled, and he sent up a great blue triumphant cloud from his
cigarette. "The
paper was made in Bohemia," I said. "Precisely.
And the man who wrote the note is a German. Do you note the peculiar
construction of the sentence — 'This account of you we have from all
quarters
received.' A Frenchman or Russian could not have written that. It is
the German
who is so uncourteous to his verbs. It only remains, therefore, to
discover
what is wanted by this German who writes upon Bohemian paper, and
prefers
wearing a mask to showing his face. And here he comes, if I am not
mistaken, to
resolve all our doubts." As he
spoke there was the sharp sound of horses' hoofs and grating wheels
against the
curb, followed by a sharp pull at the bell. Holmes whistled. "A
pair, by the sound," said he. "Yes," he continued, glancing out
of the window. "A nice little brougham and a pair of beauties. A
hundred
and fifty guineas apiece. There's money in this case, Watson, if there
is
nothing else." "I
think that I had better go, Holmes." "Not
a bit, doctor. Stay where you are. I am lost without my Boswell. And
this
promises to be interesting. It would be a pity to miss it." "But
your client — " "Never
mind him. I may want your help, and so may he. Here he comes. Sit down
in that
arm-chair, doctor, and give us your best attention." A slow and
heavy step, which had been heard upon the stairs and in the passage,
paused
immediately outside the door. Then there was a loud and authoritative
tap. "Come
in!" said Holmes. A man entered who could hardly have been less than six feet six inches in height, with the chest and limbs of a Hercules. His dress was rich with a richness which would, in England, be looked upon as akin to bad taste. Heavy bands of Astrakhan were slashed across the sleeves and fronts of his double-breasted coat, while the deep blue cloak which was thrown over his shoulders was lined with flame-colored silk, and secured at the neck with a brooch which consisted of a single flaming beryl. Boots which extended half-way up his calves, and which were trimmed at the tops with rich brown fur, completed the impression of barbaric opulence which was suggested by his whole appearance. He carried a broad-brimmed hat in his hand. while he wore across the upper part of his face, extending down past the cheekbones, a black vizard mask, which he had apparently adjusted that very moment, for his hand was still raised to it as he entered. From the lower part of the face he appeared to be a man of strong character, with a thick, hanging lip, and a long, straight chin, suggestive of resolution pushed to the length of obstinacy.
A
MAN ENTERED
"You
had my note?" he asked, with a deep harsh Voice and a strongly marked
German accent. "I told you that I would call." He looked from one to
the other of us, as if uncertain which to address. "Pray
take a seat," said Holmes. "This is my friend and colleague, Dr.
Watson, who is occasionally good enough to help me in my cases. Whom
have I the
honor to address?" "You
may address me as the Count Von Kramm, a Bohemian nobleman. I
understand that
this gentleman, your friend, is a man of honor and discretion, whom I
may trust
with a matter of the most extreme importance. If not, I should much
prefer to
communicate with you alone." I rose to
go, but Holmes caught me by the wrist and pushed me back into my chair.
"It is both, or none," said he. "You may say before this
gentleman anything which you may say to me." The count
shrugged his broad shoulders. "Then I must begin," said he, "by
binding you both to absolute secrecy for two years, at the end of that
time the
matter will be of no importance. At present it is not too much to say
that it
is of such weight it may have an influence upon European history." "I
promise," said Holmes. "And
I." "You
will excuse this mask," continued our strange visitor. "The august
person who employs me wishes his agent to be unknown to you, and I may
confess
at once that the title by which I have just called myself is not
exactly my
own." "I
was aware of it," said Holmes, dryly. "The
circumstances are of great delicacy, and every precaution has to be
taken to
quench what might grow to be an immense scandal and seriously
compromise one of
the reigning families of Europe. to speak plainly, the matter
implicates the
great House of Ormstein, hereditary kings of Bohemia." "I
was also aware of that," murmured Holmes, settling himself down in his
arm-chair and closing his eyes. Our
visitor glanced with some apparent surprise at the languid, lounging
figure of
the man who had been no doubt depicted to him as the most incisive
reasoner and
most energetic agent in Europe. Holmes slowly reopened his eyes and
looked
impatiently at his gigantic client. "If
your Majesty would condescend to state your case," he remarked, "I
should be better able to advise you." The man
sprang from his chair and paced up and down the room in uncontrollable
agitation. Then, with a gesture of desperation, he tore the mask from
his face
and hurled it upon the ground. "You are right," he cried; "I am
the King. Why should I attempt to conceal it?" "Why,
indeed?" murmured Holmes. "Your Majesty had not spoken before I was
aware that I was addressing Wilhelm Gottsreich Sigismond von Ormstein,
Grand
Duke of Cassel-Felstein, 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 well-known adventuress, Irene Adler. The
name is
no doubt familiar 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 strict 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." a 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 will 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 drunken-looking 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 horsey 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 I 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
neighborhood 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 1nner 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 that 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 mustached —
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 Edgware 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 I; "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 co-operation." "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 1rene, 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 cigar-shaped roll
from
his pocket. "It is an ordinary plumber's smoke-rocket, 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
corner 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' succinct description, but the
locality
appeared to be less private that I expected. On the contrary, for a
small
street in a quiet neighborhood, 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 any one 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
I 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 her
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 scissors-grinder, 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, arid 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 Edgware 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 that she would." "I am
still in the dark." "I do
not wish to make a mystery," said he, laughing. "The matter was
perfectly simple. You, of course, saw that every one in the street was
an
accomplice. They were all engaged for the evening." "I
guessed as much." "Then,
when the row broke out, I had a little moist red paint in the palm of
my hand.
I rushed forward, fell down, clapped my hand to my face, and became a
piteous
spectacle. It is an old trick." "That
also I could fathom." "Then
they carried me in. She was bound to have me in. What else could she
do? And
into her sitting-room, which was the very room which I suspected. It
lay
between that and her bedroom, and I was determined to see which. They
laid me
on a couch, I motioned for air, they were compelled to open the window,
and you
had your chance." "How
did that help you?" "It
was all-important. When a woman thinks that her house is on fire, her
instinct
is at once to rush to the thing which she values most. It is a
perfectly
overpowering impulse, and I have more than once taken advantage of it.
In the
case of the Darlington Substitution Scandal it was of use to me, and
also in
the Arnsworth Castle business. A married woman grabs at her baby; an
unmarried
one reaches for her jewel-box. Now it was clear to me that our lady of
to-day
had nothing in the house more precious to her than what we are in quest
of. She
would rush to secure it. The alarm of fire was admirably done. The
smoke and
shouting were enough to shake nerves of steel. She responded
beautifully. The
photograph is in a recess behind a sliding panel just above the right
bell-pull. She was there in an instant, and I caught a glimpse of it as
she
half-drew it out. When I cried out that it was a false alarm, she
replaced it,
glanced at the rocket, rushed from the room, and I have not seen her
since.. I
rose, and, making my excuses, escaped from the house. I hesitated
whether to
attempt to secure the photograph at once; but the coachman had come in,
and as
he was watching me narrowly, it seemed safer to wait. A little
over-precipitance may ruin all." "And
now?" I asked. "Our
quest is practically finished. I shall call with the King to-morrow,
and with
you, if you care to come with us. We will be shown into the
sitting-room to
wait for the lady, but it is probable that when she comes she may find
neither
us nor the photograph. It might be a satisfaction to His Majesty to
regain it
with his own hands." "And
when will you call?" "At
eight in the morning. She will not be up, so that we shall have a clear
field.
Besides, we must be prompt, for this marriage may mean a complete
change in her
life and habits. I must wire to the King without delay." We had
reached Baker Street, and had stopped at the door. He was searching his
pockets
for the key, when some one passing said: "Good-night,
Mister Sherlock Holmes." There were
several people on the pavement at the time, but the greeting appeared
to come
from a slim youth in an ulster who had hurried by. "I've
heard that voice before," said Holmes, staring down the dimly-lit
street.
"Now, I wonder who the deuce that could have been."
III I SLEPT at
Baker Street that night, and we were engaged upon our toast and coffee
in the
morning when the King of Bohemia rushed into the room. "You
have really got it!" he cried, grasping Sherlock Holmes by either
shoulder, and looking eagerly into his face. "Not
yet" "But
you have hopes?" "I
have hopes." "Then,
come. I am all impatience to be gone." "We
must have a cab." "No,
my brougham is waiting." "Then
that will simplify matters." We descended, and started off once more
for
Briony Lodge. "Irene
Adler is married," remarked Holmes. "Married!
When?" "Yesterday." "But
to whom?" "To
an English lawyer named Norton." "But
she could not love him?" "I am
in hopes that she does." "And
why in hopes?" "Because
it would spare your Majesty all fear of future annoyance. If the lady
loves her
husband, she does not love your Majesty. If she does not love your
Majesty,
there is no reason why she should interfere with your Majesty's plan." "It
is true. And yet — Well! I wish she had
been of my own station! What a queen she would have made!" He relapsed
into a moody silence, which was not broken until we drew up in
Serpentine
Avenue. The door
of Briony Lodge was open, and an elderly woman stood upon the steps.
She
watched us with a sardonic eye as we stepped from the brougham. "Mr.
Sherlock Holmes, I believe said she. "I am
Mr. Holmes," answered my companion, looking at her with a questioning
and
rather startled gaze. "Indeed!
My mistress told me that you were likely to call. She left this morning
with
her husband by the 5.15 train from Charing Cross for the Continent." "What!"
Sherlock Holmes staggered back, white with chagrin and surprise. "Do
you
mean that she has left England?" "Never
to return." "And
the papers?" asked the King, hoarsely. "All is lost." "We shall see." He pushed past the servant and rushed into the drawing-room, followed by the King and myself. The furniture was scattered about in every direction, with dismantled shelves and open drawers, as if the lady had hurriedly ransacked them before her flight. Holmes rushed at the bell-pull, tore back a small sliding shutter, and, plunging in his hand, pulled out a photograph and a letter. The photograph was of Irene Adler herself in evening dress, the letter was superscribed to "Sherlock Holmes, Esq. to be left till called for." My friend tore it open, and we all three read it together. It was dated at midnight of the preceding night, and ran in this way: "MY
DEAR MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES, — You really did it very well. You took me in
completely. Until after the alarm of fire, I had not a suspicion. But
then, when
I found how I had betrayed myself, I began to think. I had been warned
against
you months ago. I had been told that, if the King employed an agent, it
would
certainly be you. And your address had been given me. Yet, with all
this, you
made me reveal what you wanted to know. Even after I became suspicious,
I found
it hard to think evil of such a dear, kind old clergyman. But, you
know, I have
been trained as an actress myself. Male costume is nothing new to me. I
often
take advantage of the freedom which it gives. I sent John, the
coachman, to
watch you, ran up-stairs, got into my walking-clothes, as I call them,
and came
down just as you departed. "Well,
I followed you to your door, and so made sure that I was really an
object of
interest to the celebrated Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Then I, rather
imprudently,
wished you goodnight, and started for the Temple to see my husband. "We both thought the best resource was flight, when pursued by so formidable an antagonist; so you will find the nest empty when you call to-morrow. As to the photograph, your client may rest in peace. I love and am loved by a better man than he. The King may do what he will without hinderance from one whom he has cruelly wronged. I keep it only to safeguard myself, and to preserve a weapon which will always secure me from any steps which he might take in the future. I leave a photograph which he might care to possess; and I remain, dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes, very truly yours, Irene NORTON, née ADLER." "What
a woman — oh, what a woman!" cried the King of Bohemia, when we had all
three read this epistle. "Did I not tell you how quick and resolute she
was? Would she not have made an admirable queen? Is it not a pity that
she was
not on my level?" "From
what I have seen of the lady she seems indeed to be on a very different
level
to your Majesty," said Holmes, coldly. "I am sorry that I have not
been able to bring your Majesty's business to a more successful
conclusion." "On
the contrary, my dear sir," cried the King; "nothing could be more
successful. I know that her word is inviolate. The photograph is now as
safe as
if it were in the fire." "I am
glad to hear your Majesty say so." "I am
immensely indebted to you. Pray tell me in what way I can reward you.
This ring
— " He slipped an emerald snake ring from his finger and held it out
upon
the palm of his hand. "Your
Majesty has something which I should value even more highly," said
Holmes. "You
have but to name it." "This
photograph!" The King
stared at him in amazement. "Irene's
photograph!" he cried. "Certainly, if you wish it." "I
thank your Majesty. Then there is no more to be done in the matter. I
have the
honor to wish you a very good-morning." He bowed, and, turning away
without observing the hand which the King had stretched out to him, he
set off
in my company for his chambers. And that
was how a great scandal threatened to affect the kingdom of Bohemia,
and how
the best plans of Mr. Sherlock Holmes were beaten by a woman's wit. He
used to
make merry over the cleverness of women, but I have not heard him do it
of
late. And when he speaks of Irene Adler, or when he refers to her
photograph,
it is always under the honorable title of the woman. |