第 2 页

"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 drily.

"The circumstances are of great delicacy, and every precau-

tion 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 him-

self down in his armchair 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 impa-

tiently 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 desper-

ation, 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 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 com-

mitted 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 inextri-

cable 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 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 keep-

ing. 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.