CHAPTER XII

_The Strange Story of Jonathan Small_

A very patient man was the inspector in the cab, for it was a weary

time before I rejoined him. His face clouded over when I showed him

the empty box.

"There goes the reward!" said he, gloomily. "Where there is no money

there is no pay. This night's work would have been worth a tenner

each to Sam Brown and me, if the treasure had been there."

"Mr. Thaddeus Sholto is a rich man," I said. "He will see that you

are rewarded, treasure or no treasure."

The inspector shook his head despondently, however. "It's a bad

job," he repeated; "and so Mr. Athelney Jones will think."

His forecast proved to be correct, for the detective looked blank

enough when I got to Baker Street and showed him the empty box. They

had only just arrived, Holmes, the prisoner, and he, for they had

changed their plans so far as to report themselves at a station upon

the way. My companion lounged in his armchair with his usual

listless expression, while Small sat stolidly opposite to him with

his wooden leg cocked over his sound one. As I exhibited the empty

box he leaned back in his chair and laughed aloud.

"This is your doing, Small," said Athelney Jones, angrily.

"Yes, I have put it away where you shall never lay hand upon it," he

cried, exultantly. "It is my treasure; and if I can't have the loot

I'll take darned good care that no one else does. I tell you that no

living man has any right to it, unless it is three men who are in the

Andaman convict-barracks and myself. I know now that I can not have

the use of it, and I know that they can not. I have acted all

through for them as much as for myself. It's been the sign of four

with us always. Well I know that they would have had me do just what

I have done, and throw the treasure into the Thames rather than let

it go to kith or kin of Sholto or of Morstan. It was not to make

them rich that we did for Achmet. You'll find the treasure where the

key is, and where little Tonga is. When I saw that your launch must

catch us, I put the loot in a safe place. There are no rupees for

you this journey."

"You are deceiving us, Small," said Athelney Jones, sternly. "If you

had wished to throw the treasure into the Thames, it would have been

easier for you to have thrown box and all."

"Easier for me to throw, and easier for you to recover," he answered,

with a shrewd, sidelong look. "The man that was clever enough to

hunt me down is clever enough to pick an iron box from the bottom of

a river. Now that they are scattered over five miles or so, it may

be a harder job. It went to my heart to do it, though. I was

half-mad when you came up with us. However, there's no good grieving

over it. I've had ups in my life, and I've had downs, but I've

learned not to cry over spilled milk."

"This is a very serious matter, Small," said the detective. "If you

had helped justice, instead of thwarting it in this way, you would

have had a better chance at your trial."

"Justice?" snarled the ex-convict. "A pretty justice! Whose loot is

this, if it is not ours? Where is the justice that I should give it

up to those who had never earned it? Look how I have earned it.

Twenty long years in that fever-ridden swamp, all day at work under

the mangrove tree, all night chained up in the filthy convict huts,

bitten by mosquitoes, racked with ague, bullied by every cursed

black-faced policeman who loved to take it out of a white man. That

was how I earned the Agra treasure; and you talk to me of justice

because I can not bear to feel that I have paid this price only that

another may enjoy it! I would rather swing a score of times, or have

one of Tonga's darts in my hide, than live in a convict's cell and

feel that another man is at his ease in a palace with the money that

should be mine!" Small had dropped his mask of stoicism, and all

this came out in a wild whirl of words, while his eyes blazed, and

the handcuffs clanked together with the impassioned movement of his

hands. I could understand, as I saw the fury and the passion of the

man, that it was no groundless or unnatural terror which had

possessed Major Sholto when he first learned that the injured convict

was upon his track.

"You forget that we know nothing of all this," said Holmes, quietly.

"We have not heard your story, and we can not tell how far justice

may originally have been on your side."

"Well, sir, you have been very fair-spoken to me, though I can see

that I have you to thank that I have these bracelets upon my wrists.

Still, I bear no grudge for that. It is all fair and above-board.

If you want to hear my story, I have no wish to hold it back. What I

say to you is God's truth, every word of it. Thank you; you can put

the glass beside me here, and I'll put my lips to it if I am dry.

"I am a Worcestershire man myself--born near Pershore. I dare say

you would find a heap of Smalls living there now if you were to look.

I have often thought of taking a look round there, but the truth is

that I was never much of a credit to the family, and I doubt if they

would be so very glad to see me. They were all steady, chapel-going

folk, small farmers, well known and respected over the country-side,

while I was always a bit of a rover. At last, however, when I was

about eighteen, I gave them no more trouble, for I got into a mess

over a girl, and could only get out of it by taking the queen's

shilling and joining the Third Buffs, which was just starting for

India.

"I wasn't destined to do much soldiering, however. I had just got

past the goose-step, and learned to handle my musket, when I was fool

enough to go swimming in the Ganges. Luckily for me, my company

sergeant, John Holder, was in the water at the same time, and he was

one of the finest swimmers in the service. A crocodile took me, just

as I was half-way across, and nipped off my right leg, as clean as a

surgeon could have done it, just above the knee. What with the shock

and loss of blood, I fainted, and should have been drowned if Holder

had not caught hold of me and paddled for the bank. I was five

months in hospital over it, and when at last I was able to limp out

of it, with this timber toe strapped to my stump, I found myself

invalided out of the army and unfitted for any active occupation.

"I was, as you can imagine, pretty down on my luck at this time, for

I was a useless cripple, though not yet in my twentieth year.

However, my misfortune soon proved to be a blessing in disguise. A

man named Abelwhite, who had come out there as an indigo-planter,

wanted an overseer to look after his coolies and keep them up to

their work. He happened to be a friend of our colonel's, who had

taken an interest in me since the accident. To make a long story

short, the colonel recommended me strongly for the post, and, as the

work was mostly to be done on horseback, my leg was no great

obstacle, for I had enough knee left to keep a good grip on the

saddle. What I had to do was to ride over the plantation, to keep an

eye on the men as they worked, and to report the idlers. The pay was

fair, I had comfortable quarters, and altogether I was content to

spend the remainder of my life in indigo-planting. Mr. Abelwhite was

a kind man, and he would often drop into my little shanty and smoke a

pipe with me, for white folk out there feel their hearts warm to each

other as they never do here at home.

"Well, I was never in luck's way long. Suddenly, without a note of

warning, the great mutiny broke upon us. One month India lay as

still and peaceful, to all appearance, as Surrey or Kent; the next

there were two hundred thousand black devils let loose, and the

country was a perfect hell. Of course, you know all about it,

gentlemen, a deal more than I do, very like, since reading is not in

my line. I only know what I saw with my own eyes. Our plantation

was at a place called Muttra, near the border of the Northwest

Provinces. Night after night the whole sky was alight with the

burning bungalows, and day after day we had small companies of

Europeans passing through our estate, with their wives and children,

on their way to Agra, where were the nearest troops. Mr. Abelwhite

was an obstinate man. He had it in his head that the affair had been

exaggerated, and that it would blow over as suddenly as it had sprung

up. There he sat on his veranda, drinking whisky-pegs and smoking

cheroots, while the country was in a blaze about him. Of course we

stuck by him, I and Dawson, who, with his wife, used to do the

bookwork and the managing. Well, one fine day the crash came. I had

been away on a distant plantation, and was riding slowly home in the

evening, when my eye fell upon something all huddled together at the

bottom of a steep nullah. I rode down to see what it was, and the

cold struck through my heart when I found it was Dawson's wife, all

cut into ribbons, and half-eaten by jackals and native dogs. A

little further up the road Dawson himself was lying on his face,

quite dead, with an empty revolver in his hand, and four Sepoys lying

across one another in front of him. I reined up my horse, wondering

which way I should turn, but at that moment I saw thick smoke curling

up from Abelwhite's bungalow and the flames beginning to burst

through the roof. I knew then that I could do my employer no good,

but would only throw my own life away if I meddled in the matter.

From where I stood I could see hundreds of the black fiends, with

their red coats still on their backs, dancing and howling round the

burning house. Some of them pointed at me, and a couple of bullets

sung past my head; so I broke away across the paddy-fields, and found

myself late at night safe within the walls at Agra.

"As it proved, however, there was no great safety there, either. The

whole country was up like a swarm of bees. Wherever the English

could collect in little bands they held just the ground that their

guns commanded. Everywhere else they were helpless fugitives. It

was a fight of the millions against the hundreds; and the crudest

part of it was that these men that we fought against, foot, horse,

and gunners, were our own picked troops, whom we had taught and

trained, handling our own weapons, and blowing our own bugle-calls.

At Agra there were the Third Bengal Fusiliers, some Sikhs, two troops

of horse, and a battery of artillery. A volunteer corps of clerks

and merchants had been formed, and this I joined, wooden leg and all.

We went out to meet the rebels at Shahgunge early in July, and we

beat them back for a time, but our powder gave out, and we had to

fall back upon the city. Nothing but the worst news came to us from

every side--which is not to be wondered at, for if you look at the

map you will see that we were right in the heart of it. Lucknow is

rather better than a hundred miles to the east, and Cawnpore about as

far to the south. From every point on the compass there was nothing

but torture, and murder, and outrage.

"The city of Agra is a great place, swarming with fanatics and fierce

devil-worshipers of all sorts. Our handful of men were lost among

the narrow, winding streets. Our leader moved across the river,

therefore, and took up his position in the old fort of Agra. I don't

know if any of you gentlemen have ever read or heard anything of that

old fort. It is a very queer place--the queerest that ever I was in,

and I have been in some rum corners, too. First of all, it is

enormous in size. I should think that the enclosure must be acres

and acres. There is a modern part, which took all our garrison,

women, children, stores, and everything else, with plenty of room

over. But the modern part is nothing like the size of the old

quarter, where nobody goes, and which is given over to the scorpions

and the centipeds. It is all full of great, deserted halls, and

winding passages, and long corridors twisting in and out, so that it

is easy enough for folks to get lost in it. For this reason it was

seldom that any one went into it, though now and again a party with

torches might go exploring.

"The river washes along the front of the old fort, and so protects

it, but on the sides and behind there are many doors, and these had

to be guarded, of course, in the old quarter as well as in that which

was actually held by our troops. We were short-handed, with hardly

men enough to man the angles of the building and to serve the guns.

It was impossible for us, therefore, to station a strong guard at

every one of the innumerable gates. What we did was to organize a

central guard-house in the middle of the fort, and to leave each gate

under the charge of one white man and two or three natives. I was

selected to take charge during certain hours of the night of a small,

isolated door upon the south-west side of the building. Two Sikh

troopers were placed under my command, and I was instructed if

anything went wrong to fire my musket, when I might rely upon help

coming at once from the central guard. As the guard was a good two

hundred paces away, however, and as the space between was cut up into

a labyrinth of passages and corridors, I had great doubts as to

whether they could arrive in time to be of any use in case of an

actual attack.

"Well, I was pretty proud at having this small command given me,

since I was a raw recruit, and a game-legged one at that. For two

nights I kept the watch with my Punjaubees. They were tall,

fierce-looking chaps, Mohammed Singh and Abdullah Khan by name, both

old fighting-men who had borne arms against us at Chillianwalla.

They could talk English pretty well, but I could get little out of

them. They preferred to stand together and jabber all night in their

queer Sikh lingo. For myself, I used to stand outside the gateway,

looking down on the broad, winding river and on the twinkling lights

of the great city. The beating of drums, the rattle of tomtoms, and

the yells and howls of the rebels, drunk with opium and with bhang,

were enough to remind us all night of our dangerous neighbors across

the stream. Every two hours the officers of the night used to come

round to all the posts, to make sure that all was well.

"The third night of my watch was dark and dirty, with a small,

driving rain. It was dreary work standing in the gateway hour after

hour in such weather. I tried again and again to make my Sikhs talk,

but without much success. At two in the morning the rounds passed,

and broke for a moment the weariness of the night. Finding that my

companions would not be led into conversation, I took out my pipe,

and laid down my musket to strike a match. In an instant the two

Sikhs were upon me. One of them snatched my firelock up and leveled

it at my head, while the other held a great knife to my throat, and

swore between his teeth that he would plunge it into me if I moved a

step.

"My first thought was that these fellows were in league with the

rebels, and that this was the beginning of an assault. If our door

were in the hands of the Sepoys the place must fall, and the women

and children be treated as they were in Cawnpore. Maybe you

gentlemen think that I am just making out a case for myself, but I

give you my word that when I thought of that, though I felt the point

of the knee at my throat, I opened my mouth with the intention of

giving a scream, if it was my last one, which might alarm the main

guard. The man who held me seemed to know my thoughts; for, even as

I braced myself to it, he whispered: 'Don't make a noise. The fort

is safe enough. There are no rebel dogs on this side of the river.'

There was the ring Of truth in what he said, and I knew that if I

raised my voice I was a dead man. I could read it in the fellow's

brown eyes. I waited, therefore, in silence, to see what it was they

wanted from me.

"'Listen to me, sahib,' said the taller and fiercer of the pair, the

one whom they called Abdullah Khan. 'You must either be with us now

or you must be silenced forever. The thing is too great a one for us

to hesitate. Either you are heart and soul with us, on your oath on

the cross of the Christians, or your body this night shall be thrown

into the ditch, and we shall pass over to our brothers in the rebel

army. There is no middle way. Which is it to be, death or life? We

can only give you three minutes to decide, for the time is passing,

and all must be done before the rounds come again.'

"'How can I decide?' said I. 'You have not told me what you want of

me. But I tell you now, that if it is anything against the safety of

the fort, I will have no truck with it; so you can drive home your

knife, and welcome.'

"'It is nothing against the fort,' said he. 'We only ask you to do

that which your countrymen come to this land for. We ask you to be

rich. If you will be one of us this night, we will swear to you upon

the naked knife, and by the threefold oath which no Sikh was ever

known to break, that you shall have your fair share of the loot. A

quarter of the treasure shall be yours. We can say no fairer.'

"'But what is the treasure, then?' I asked. 'I am as ready to be

rich as you can be, if you will but show me how it can be done.'

"'You swear, then,' said he, 'by the bones of your father, by the

honor of your mother, by the cross of your faith, to raise no hand

and speak no word against us, either now or afterward?'

"'I will swear it;' I answered, 'provided that the fort is not

endangered.'

"Then my comrades and I will swear that you shall have a quarter of

the treasure, which shall be equally divided among the four of us.'

"There are but three,' said I.

"'No; Dost Akbar must have his share. We can tell the tale to you

while we await them. Do you stand at the gate, Mohammed Singh, and

give notice of their coming. The thing stands thus, sahib, and I

tell it to you because I know that an oath is binding upon a

Feringhee, and that we may trust you. Had you been a lying Hindu,

though you had sworn by all the gods in their false temples, your

blood would have been upon the knife and your body in the water. But

the Sikh knows the Englishman, and the Englishman knows the Sikh.

Hearken, then, to what I have to say.

"'There is a rajah in the Northern Provinces who has much wealth,

though his lands are small. Much has come to him from his father,

and more still he has set by himself, for he is of a low nature and

hoards his gold rather than spends it. When the troubles broke out

he would be friends both with the lion and the tiger--with the Sepoy

and with the Company's Raj. Soon, however, it seemed to him that the

white men's day was come, for through all the land he could hear of

nothing but of their death and their overthrow. Yet, being a careful

man, he made such plans that, come what might, half at least of his

treasure should be left to him. That which was in gold and silver he

kept by him in the vaults of his palace, but the most precious stones

and the choicest pearls that he had he put in an iron box, and sent

it by a trusty servant who, under the guise of a merchant, should

take it to the fort at Agra, there to lie until the land is at peace.

Thus, if the rebels won he would have his money, but if the Company

conquered, his jewels would be saved to him. Having thus divided his

hoard, he threw himself into the cause of the Sepoys, since they were

strong upon his borders. By his doing this, mark you, sahib, his

property becomes the due of those who have been true to their salt.

"'This pretended merchant, who travels under the name of Achmet, is

now in the city of Agra, and desires to gain his way into the fort.

He has with him, as traveling companion, my foster-brother, Dost

Akbar, who knows his secret. Dost Akbar has promised this night to

lead him to a side-postern of the fort, and has chosen this one for

his purpose. Here he will come presently, and here he will find

Mohammed Singh and myself awaiting him. The place is lonely, and

none shall know of his coming. The world shall know of the merchant

Achmet no more, but the great treasure of the rajah shall be divided

among us. What say you to it, sahib?'"

"In Worcestershire the life of a man seems a great and a sacred

thing; but it is very different when there is fire and blood all

round you and you have been used to meeting death at every turn.

Whether Achmet the merchant lived or died was a thing as light as air

to me, but at the talk about the treasure my heart turned to it, and

I thought of what I might do in the old country with it, and how my

folk would stare when they saw their ne'er-do-weel coming back with

his pockets full of gold moidores. I had, therefore, already made up

my mind. Abdullah Khan, however, thinking that I hesitated, pressed

the matter more closely.

"'Consider, sahib,' said he, 'that if this man is taken by the

commandant he will be hanged or shot, and his jewels taken by the

Government, so that no man will be a rupee the better for them. Now,

since we do the taking of him, why should we not do the rest as well?

The jewels will be as well with us as in the Company's coffers.

There will be enough to make every one of us rich men and great

chiefs. No one can know about the matter, for here we are cut off

from all men. What could be better for the purpose? Say again,

then, sahib, whether you are with us, or if we must look upon you as

an enemy.'

"'I am with you heart and soul,' said I.

"'It is well,' he answered, handing me back my firelock. 'You see

that we trust you, for your word, like ours, is not to be broken. We

have now only to wait for my brother and the merchant.'

"'Does your brother know, then, of what you will do?' I asked.

"'The plan is his. He has devised it. We will go to the gate and

share the watch with Mohammed Singh.'

"The rain was still falling steadily, for it was just the beginning

of the wet season. Brown, heavy clouds were drifting across the sky,

and it was hard to see more than a stone-cast. A deep moat lay in

front of our door, but the water was in places nearly dried up, and

it could easily be crossed. It was strange to me to be standing

there with those two wild Punjaubees waiting for the man who was

coming to his death.

"Suddenly my eye caught the glint of a shaded lantern at the other

side of the moat. It vanished among the mound-heaps, and then

appeared again coming slowly in our direction.

"'Here they are!' I exclaimed.

"'You will challenge him, sahib, as usual,' whispered Abdullah.

'Give him no cause for fear. Send us in with him, and we shall do

the rest while you stay here on guard. Have the lantern ready to

uncover, that we may be sure that it is indeed the man.'

"The light had flickered onward, now stopping and now advancing,

until I could see two dark figures upon the other side of the moat.

I let them scramble down the sloping bank, splash through the mire,

and climb half-way up to the gate, before I challenged them.

"'Who goes there?' said I, in a subdued voice.

"'Friends,' came the answer. I uncovered my lantern and threw a

flood of light upon them. The first was an enormous Sikh, with a

black beard which swept nearly down to his cummerbund. Outside of a

show I have never seen so tall a man. The other was a little, fat,

round fellow, with a great yellow turban, and a bundle in his hand,

done up in a shawl. He seemed to be all in a quiver with fear, for

his hands twitched as if he had the ague, and his head kept turning

to left and right with two bright little twinkling eyes, like a mouse

when he ventures out from his hole. It gave me the chills to think

of killing him, but I thought of the treasure, and my heart set as

hard as a flint within me. When he saw my white face he gave a

little chirrup of joy and came running up toward me.

"'Your protection, sahib,' he panted; 'your protection for the

unhappy merchant Achmet. I have traveled across Rajpootana that I

might seek the shelter of the fort at Agra. I have been robbed, and

beaten, and abused because I have been the friend of the Company. It

is a blessed night this when I am once more in safety--I and my poor

possessions.'

"'What have you in the bundle?' I asked.

"'An iron box,' he answered, 'which contains one or two little family

matters which are of no value to others, but which I should be sorry

to lose. Yet I am not a beggar; and I shall reward you, young sahib,

and your governor also, if he will give me the shelter I ask.'

"I could not trust myself to speak longer with the man. The more I

looked at his fat, frightened face, the harder did it seem that we

should slay him in cold blood. It was best to get it over.

"'Take him to the main guard,' said I. The two Sikhs closed in upon

him on each side, and the giant walked behind, while they marched in

through the dark gateway. Never was a man so compassed round with

death. I remained at the gateway with the lantern.

"I could hear the measured tramp of their footsteps sounding through

the lonely corridors. Suddenly it ceased, and I heard voices, and a

scuffle, with the sound of blows. A moment later there came, to my

horror, a rush of footsteps coming in my direction, with the loud

breathing of a running man. I turned my lantern down the long,

straight passage, and there was the fat man, running like the wind,

with a smear of blood across his face, and close at his heels,

bounding like a tiger, the great, black-bearded Sikh, with a knife

flashing in his hand. I have never seen a man run so fast as that

little merchant. He was gaining on the Sikh, and I could see that if

he once passed me and got to the open air, he would save himself yet.

My heart softened to him, but again the thought of his treasure

turned me hard and bitter. I cast my fire-lock between his legs as

he raced past, and he rolled twice over like a shot rabbit. Ere he

could stagger to his feet the Sikh was upon him, and buried his knife

twice in his side. The man never uttered moan nor moved muscle, but

lay where he had fallen. I think, myself, that he may have broken

his neck with the fall. You see, gentlemen, that I am keeping my

promise. I am telling you every word of this business just exactly

as it happened, whether it is in my favor or not."

He stopped, and held out his manacled hands for the whisky and water

which Holmes had brewed for him. For myself, I confess that I had

now conceived the utmost horror of the man, not only for this

cold-blooded business in which he had been concerned, but even more

for the somewhat flippant and careless way in which he narrated it.

Whatever punishment was in store for him, I felt that he might expect

no sympathy from me. Sherlock Holmes and Jones sat with their hands

upon their knees, deeply interested in the story, but with the same

disgust written upon their faces. He may have observed it, for there

was a touch of defiance in his voice and manner as he proceeded:

"It was all very bad, no doubt," said he. "I should like to know how

many fellows in my shoes would have refused a share of this loot when

they knew that they would have their throats cut for their pains.

Besides, it was my life or his when once he was in the fort. If he

had got out, the whole business would have come to light, and I

should have been court-martialed and shot as likely as not; for

people were not very lenient at a time like that."

"Go on with your story," said Holmes, shortly.

"Well, we carried him in, Abdullah, Akbar, and I. A fine weight he

was, too, for all that he was so short. Mohammed Singh was left to

guard the door. We took him to a place which the Sikhs had already

prepared. It was some distance off, where a winding passage leads to

a great empty hall, the brick walls of which were all crumbling to

pieces. The earth floor had sunk in at one place, making a natural

grave, so we left Achmet the merchant there, having first covered him

over with loose bricks. This done, we all went back to the treasure.

"It lay where he had dropped it when he was first attacked. The box

was the same which now lies open upon your table. A key was hung by

a silken cord to that carved handle upon the top. We opened it, and

the light of the lantern gleamed upon a collection of gems such as I

have read of and thought about when I was a little lad at Pershore.

It was blinding to look upon them. When we had feasted our eyes we

took them all out and made a list of them. There were one hundred

and forty-three diamonds of the first water, including one which has

been called, I believe, 'the Great Mogul,' and is said to be the

second largest stone in existence. Then there were ninety-seven very

fine emeralds, and one hundred and seventy rubies, some of which,

however, were small. There were forty carbuncles, two hundred and

ten sapphires, sixty-one agates, and a great quantity of beryls,

onyxes, cat's-eyes, turquoises, and other stones, the very names of

which I did not know at the time, though I have become more familiar

with them since. Besides this, there were nearly three hundred very

fine pearls, twelve of which were set in a gold chaplet. By the way,

these last had been taken out of the chest and were not there when I

recovered it.

"After we had counted our treasures we put them back into the chest

and carried them to the gateway to show them to Mohammed Singh. Then

we solemnly renewed our oath to stand by each other and be true to

our secret. We agreed to conceal our loot in a safe place until the

country should be at peace again, and then to divide it equally among

ourselves. There was no use dividing it at present, for if gems of

such value were found upon us it would cause suspicion, and there was

no privacy in the fort nor any place where we could keep them. We

carried the box, therefore, into the same hall where we had buried

the body, and there, under certain bricks, in the best preserved

wall, we made a hollow and put our treasure. We made careful note of

the place, and next day I drew four plans, one for each of us, and

put the sign of the four of us at the bottom, for we had sworn that

we should each always act for all, so that none might take advantage.

That is an oath that I can put my hand to my heart and swear that I

have never broken.

"Well, there is no use my telling you, gentlemen, what came of the

Indian mutiny. After Wilson took Delhi, and Sir Colin relieved

Lucknow, the back of the business was broken. Fresh troops came

pouring in, and Nana Sahib made himself scarce over the frontier. A

flying column under Colonel Greathead came round to Agra and cleared

the Pandies away from it. Peace seemed to be settling upon the

country, and we four were beginning to hope that the time was at hand

when we might safely go off with our shares of the plunder. In a

moment, however, our hopes were shattered, by our being arrested as

the murderers of Achmet.

"It came about in this way. When the rajah put his jewels into the

hands of Achmet, he did it because he knew that he was a trusty man.

They are suspicious folk in the East, however; so what does this

rajah do but take a second even more trusty servant, and set him to

play the spy upon the first. This second man was ordered never to

let Achmet out of his sight, and he followed him like his shadow. He

went after him that night, and saw him pass through the doorway. Of

course he thought he had taken refuge in the fort, and applied for

admission there himself next day, but could find no trace of Achmet.

This seemed to him so strange that he spoke about it to a sergeant of

guides, who brought it to the ears of the commandant. A thorough

search was quickly made, and the body was discovered. Thus at the

very moment that we thought that all was safe, we were all four

seized and brought to trial on a charge of murder--three of us

because we had held the gate that night, and the fourth because he

was known to have been in the company of the murdered man. Not a

word about the jewels came out at the trial, for the rajah had been

deposed and driven out of India; so no one had any particular

interest in them. The murder, however, was clearly made out, and it

was certain that we must all have been concerned in it. The three

Sikhs got penal servitude for life, and I was condemned to death,

though my sentence was afterward commuted into the same as the others.

"It was rather a queer position that we found ourselves in then.

There we were all four tied by the leg, and with precious little

chance of ever getting out again, while we each held a secret which

might have put each of us in a palace if we could only have made use

of it. It was enough to make a man eat his heart out to have to

stand the kick and the cuff of every petty jack-in-office, to have

rice to eat and water to drink, when that gorgeous fortune was ready

for him outside, just waiting to be picked up. It might have driven

me mad; but I was always a pretty stubborn one, so I just held on and

bided my time.

"At last it seemed to me to have come. I was changed from Agra to

Madras, and from there to Blair Island, in the Andamans. There are

very few white convicts at this settlement, and, as I had behaved

well from the first, I soon found myself a privileged person. I was

given a hut in Hope Town, which is a small place on the slopes of

Mount Harriet, and I was left pretty much to myself. It is a dreary,

fever-stricken place, and all beyond our little clearings was

infested with wild cannibal natives, who were ready enough to blow a

poisoned dart at us if they saw a chance. There were digging, and

ditching, and yam-planting, and a dozen other things to be done, so

we were busy enough all day; though in the evening we had a little

time to ourselves. Among other things, I learned to dispense drugs

for the surgeon, and picked up a smattering of his knowledge. All

the time I was on the lookout for a chance of escape; but it is

hundreds of miles from any other land, and there is little or no wind

in those seas; so it was a terribly difficult job to get away.

"The surgeon, Doctor Somerton, was a fast, sporting young chap, and

the other young officers would meet in his rooms of an evening and

play cards. The surgery, where I used to make up my drugs, was next

to his sitting-room, with a small window between us. Often, if I

felt lonesome, I used to turn out the lamp in the surgery, and then,

standing there, I could hear their talk and watch their play. I am

fond of a hand at cards myself, and it was almost as good as having

one to watch the others. There were Major Sholto, Captain Morstan,

and Lieutenant Bromley Brown, who were in command of the native

troops, and there were the surgeon himself, and two or three prison

officials, crafty old hands who played a nice, sly, safe game. A

very snug little party they used to make.

"Well, there was one thing which very soon struck me, and that was

that the soldiers used always to lose and the civilians to win.

Mind, I don't say that there was anything unfair, but so it was.

These prison chaps had done little else than play cards ever since

they had been at the Andamans, and they knew each other's game to a

point, while the others just played to pass the time and threw their

cards down anyhow. Night after night the soldiers got up poorer men,

and the poorer they got the more keen they were to play. Major

Sholto was the hardest hit. He used to pay in notes and gold at

first, but soon it came to notes of hand, and for big sums. He

sometimes would win for a few deals, just to give him heart, and then

the luck would set in against him worse than ever. All day he would

wander about as black as thunder, and he took to drinking a deal more

than was good for him.

"One night he lost even more heavily than usual. I was sitting in my

hut when he and Captain Morstan came stumbling along on the way to

their quarters. They were bosom friends, those two, and never far

apart. The major was raving about his losses.

"'It's all up, Morstan,' he was saying, as they passed my hut. 'I

shall have to send in my papers. I am a ruined man.'

"'Nonsense, old chap!' said the other, slapping him upon the

shoulder. 'I've had a nasty facer myself, but--' That was all I

could hear, but it was enough to set me thinking.

"A couple of days later Major Sholto was strolling on the beach; so I

took the chance of speaking to him.

"'I wish to have your advice, major,' said I.

"'Well, Small, what is it?' he said, taking his cheroot from his lips.

"'I wanted to ask you, sir,' said I, 'who is the proper person to

whom hidden treasure should be handed over. I know where half a

million worth lies, and, as I can not use it myself, I thought

perhaps the best thing that I could do would be to hand it over to

the proper authorities, and then, perhaps, they would get my sentence

shortened for me.'

"'Half a million, Small?' he gasped, looking hard at me to see if I

was in earnest.

"'Quite that, sir--in jewels and pearls. It lies there ready for any

one. And the queer thing about it is that the real owner is outlawed

and can not hold property, so that it belongs to the first comer.'

"'To government, Small,' he stammered; 'to government.' But he said

it in a halting fashion, and I knew in my heart that I had got him.

"'You think, then, sir, that I should give the information to the

Governor-General?' said I, quietly.

"'Well, well, you must not do anything rash, or that you might

repent. Let me hear all about it, Small. Give me the facts.'

"I told him the whole story, with small changes, so that he could not

identify the place. When I had finished he stood stock-still and

full of thought. I could see by the twitch of his lip that there was

a struggle going on within him.

"'This is a very important matter, Small,' he said, at last. 'You

must not say a word to any one about it, and I shall see you again

soon.'

"Two nights later he and his friend, Captain Morstan, came to my hut

in the dead of the night with a lantern.

"'I want you just to let Captain Morstan hear that story from your

own lips, Small,' said he.

"I repeated it as I had told it before.

"'It rings true, eh?' said he. 'It's good enough to act upon?'

Captain Morstan nodded.

"'Look here, Small,' said the major. 'We have been talking it over,

my friend here and I, and we have come to the conclusion that this

secret of yours is hardly a government matter after all, but is a

private concern of your own, which, of course, you have the power of

disposing of as you think best. Now, the question is, what price

would you ask for it? We might be inclined to take it up, and at

least look into it, if we could agree as to terms.' He tried to

speak in a cool, careless way, but his eyes were shining with

excitement and greed.

"'Why, as to that, gentlemen,' I answered, trying also to be cool,

but feeling as excited as he did, 'there is only one bargain which a

man in my position can make. I shall want you to help me to my

freedom, and to help my three companions to theirs. We shall then

take you into partnership, and give you a fifth share to divide

between you."

"'Hum!' said he. 'A fifth share! That is not very tempting.'

"'It would come to fifty thousand apiece,' said I.

"'But how can we gain your freedom? You know very well that you ask

an impossibility.'

"'Nothing of the sort,' I answered. 'I have thought it all out to

the last detail. The only bar to our escape is that we can get no

boat fit for the voyage, and no provisions to last us for so long a

time. There are plenty of little yachts and yawls at Calcutta or

Madras which would serve our turn well. Do you bring one over. We

shall engage to get aboard her by night, and if you will drop us on

any part of the Indian coast you will have done your part of the

bargain.'

"'If there was only one,' he said.

"'None or all,' I answered. 'We have sworn it. The four of us must

always act together.'

"'You see, Morstan,' said he, 'Small is a man of his word. He does

not flinch from his friends. I think we may very well trust him.'

"'It's a dirty business,' the other answered. 'Yet, as you say, the

money would save our commissions handsomely.'

"'Well, Small,' said the major, 'we must, I suppose, try and meet

you. We must first, of course, test the truth of your story. Tell

me where the box is hid, and I shall get leave of absence and go back

to India in the monthly relief-boat to inquire into the affair.'

"'Not so fast,' said I, growing colder as he got hot. 'I must have

the consent of my three comrades. I tell you that it is four or none

with us.'

"'Nonsense!' he broke in. 'What have three black fellows to do with

our agreement?'

"'Black or blue,' said I, 'they are in with me, and we all go

together.'

"Well, the matter ended by a second meeting, at which Mohammed Singh,

Abdullah Khan, and Dost Akbar were all present. We talked the matter

over again, and at last we came to an arrangement. We were to

provide both the officers with charts of the part of the Agra fort,

and mark the place in the wall where the treasure was hid. Major

Sholto was to go to India to test our story. If he found the box he

was to leave it there, to send out a small yacht provisioned for a

voyage, which was to lie off Rutland Island, and to which we were to

make our way, and finally to return to his duties. Captain Morstan

was then to apply for leave of absence, to meet us at Agra, and there

we were to have a final division of the treasure, he taking the

major's share as well as his own. All this we sealed by the most

solemn oaths that the mind could think or the lips utter. I sat up

all night with paper and ink, and by the morning I had the two charts

all ready, signed with the sign of the four--that is, of Abdullah,

Akbar, Mohammed, and myself.

"Well, gentlemen, I weary you with my long story, and I know that my

friend, Mr. Jones, is impatient to get me safely stowed in chokey.

I'll make it as short as I can. The villain Sholto went off to

India, but he never came back again. Captain Morstan showed me his

name among a list of passengers in one of the mail boats very shortly

afterward. His uncle had died, leaving him a fortune, and he had

left the army, yet he could stoop to treat five men as he had treated

us. Morstan went over to Agra shortly afterward, and found, as we

expected, that the treasure was indeed gone. The scoundrel had

stolen it all, without carrying out one of the conditions on which we

had sold him the secret. From that day I lived only for vengeance.

I thought of it by day and I nursed it by night. It became an

overpowering, absorbing passion with me. I cared nothing for the

law--nothing for the gallows. To escape, to track down Sholto, to

have my hand upon his throat--that was my one thought Even the Agra

treasure had come to be a smaller thing in my mind than the slaying

of Sholto.

"Well, I have set my mind on many things in this life, and never one

which I did not carry out. But it was weary years before my time

came. I have told you that I had picked up something of medicine.

One day, when Doctor Somerton was down with a fever, a little Andaman

Islander was picked up by a convict-gang in the woods. He was sick

to death, and had gone to a lonely place to die. I took him in hand,

though he was as venomous as a young snake, and after a couple of

months I got him all right and able to walk. He took a kind of fancy

to me then, and would hardly go back to his woods, but was always

hanging about my hut. I learned a little of his lingo from him, and

this made him all the fonder of me.

"Tonga--for that was his name--was a fine boatman, and owned a big,

roomy canoe of his own. When I found that he was devoted to me and

would do anything to serve me, I saw my chance to escape. I talked

it over with him. He was to bring his boat round on a certain night

to an old wharf which was never guarded, and there he was to pick me

up. I gave him directions to have several gourds of water and a lot

of yams, cocoanuts, and sweet potatoes.

"He was stanch and true, was little Tonga. No man ever had a more

faithful mate. At the night named he had his boat at the wharf. As

it chanced, however, there was one of the convict-guard down there--a

vile Pathan who had never missed a chance of insulting and injuring

me. I had always vowed vengeance, and now I had my chance. It was

as if fate had placed him in my way that I might pay my debt before I

left the island. He stood on the bank with his back to me, and his

carbine on his shoulder. I looked about for a stone to beat out his

brains with, but none could I see. Then a queer thought came into my

head and showed me where I could lay my hand on a weapon. I sat down

in the darkness and unstrapped my wooden leg. With three long hops I

was on him. He put his carbine to his shoulder, but I struck him

full and knocked the whole front of his skull in. You can see the

split in the wood now where I hit him. We both went down together,

for I could not keep my balance, but when I got up I found him still

lying quiet enough. I made for the boat, and in an hour we were well

out at sea. Tonga had brought all his earthly possessions with him,

his arms and his gods. Among other things, he had a long bamboo

spear, and some Andaman cocoanut matting, with which I made a sort of

a sail. For ten days we were beating about, trusting to luck, and on

the eleventh we were picked up by a trader which was going from

Singapore to Jiddah with a cargo of Malay pilgrims. They were a rum

crowd, and Tonga and I soon managed to settle down among them. They

had one very good quality; they let you alone and asked no questions.

"Well, if I were to tell you all the adventures that my little chum

and I went through, you would not thank me, for I would have you here

until the sun was shining. Here and there we drifted about the

world, something always turning up to keep us from London. All the

time, however, I never lost sight of my purpose. I would dream of

Sholto at night. A hundred times I have killed him in my sleep. At

last, however, some three or four years ago, we found ourselves in

England. I had no great difficulty in finding where Sholto lived,

and I set to work to discover whether he had realized the treasure or

if he still had it. I made friends with some one who could help

me--I name no names, for I don't want to get any one else in a

hole--and I soon found that he still had the jewels. Then I tried to

get at him in many ways; but he was pretty sly, and had always two

prize-fighters, besides his sons and his khitmutgar, on guard over

him.

"One day, however, I got word that he was dying. I hurried at once

to the garden, mad that he should slip out of my clutches like that,

and, looking through the window, I saw him lying in his bed, with his

sons on each side of him. I'd have come through and taken my chance

with the three of them, only, even as I looked at him, his jaw

dropped, and I knew that he was gone. I got into his room that same

night, though, and I searched his papers to see if there was any

record of where he had hidden our jewels. There was not a line,

however; so I came away, bitter and savage as a man could be. Before

I left I bethought me that if I ever met my Sikh friends again it

would be a satisfaction to know that I had left some mark of our

hatred; so I scrawled down the sign of the four of us, as it had been

on the chart, and I pinned it on his bosom. It was too much that he

should be taken to the grave without some token from the men whom he

had robbed and befooled.

"We earned a living at this time by my exhibiting poor Tonga at fairs

and other such places as the black cannibal. He would eat raw meat

and dance his war-dance; so we always had a hatful of pennies after a

day's work. I still heard all the news from Pondicherry Lodge, and

for some years there was no news to hear, except that they were

hunting for the treasure. At last, however, came what we had waited

for so long. The treasure had been found. It was up at the top of

the house, in Mr. Bartholomew Sholto's chemical laboratory. I came

at once and had a look at the place, but I could not see how, with my

wooden leg, I was to make my way up to it. I learned, however, about

a trap-door in the roof, and also about Mr. Sholto's supper-hour. It

seemed to me that I could manage the thing easily through Tonga. I

brought him out with me with a long rope wound round his waist. He

could climb like a cat, and he soon made his way through the roof,

but, as ill-luck would have it, Bartholomew Sholto was still in the

room, to his cost. Tonga thought he had done something very clever

in killing him, for when I came up by the rope I found him strutting

about as proud as a peacock. Very much surprised was he when I made

at him with the rope's end and cursed him for a little bloodthirsty

imp. I took the treasure-box and let it down, and then slid down

myself, having first left the sign of the four upon the table, to

show that the jewels had come back at last to those who had most

right to them. Tonga then pulled up the rope, closed the window, and

made off the way that he had come.

"I don't know that I have anything else to tell you. I had heard a

waterman speak of the speed of Smith's launch, the 'Aurora,' so I

thought she would be a handy craft for our escape. I engaged with

old Smith, and was to give him a big sum if he got us safe to our

ship. He knew, no doubt, that there was some screw loose, but he was

not in our secrets. All this is the truth, and if I tell it to you,

gentlemen, it is not to amuse you--for you have not done me a very

good turn--but it is because I believe the best defense I can make is

just to hold back nothing, but let all the world know how badly I

have myself been served by Major Sholto, and how innocent I am of the

death of his son."

"A very remarkable account," said Sherlock Holmes. "A fitting

wind-up to an extremely interesting case. There is nothing at all

new to me in the latter part of your narrative, except that you

brought your own rope. That I did not know. By the way, I had hoped

that Tonga had lost all his darts; yet he managed to shoot one at us

in the boat."

"He had lost them all, sir, except the one which was in his blow-pipe

at the time."

"Ah, of course," said Holmes, "I had not thought of that."

"Is there any other point which you would like to ask about?" asked

the convict, affably.

"I think not, thank you," my companion answered.

"Well, Holmes," said Athelney Jones, "you are a man to be humored,

and we all know that you are a connoisseur of crime, but duty is

duty, and I have gone rather far in doing what you and your friend

asked me. I shall feel more at ease when we have our story-teller

here safe under lock and key. The cab still waits, and there are two

inspectors downstairs. I am much obliged to you both for your

assistance. Of course you will be wanted at the trial. Good-night

to you."

"Good-night, gentlemen both," said Jonathan Small.

"You first, Small," remarked the wary Jones as they left the room.

"I'll take particular care that you don't club me with your wooden

leg, whatever you may have done to the gentleman at the Andaman

Isles."

"Well, and there is the end of our little drama," I remarked, after

we had sat some time looking in silence. "I fear that it may be the

last investigation in which I shall have the chance of studying your

methods. Miss Morstan has done me the honor to accept me as a

husband in prospective."

He gave a most dismal groan. "I feared as much," said he; "I really

can not congratulate you."

I was a little hurt. "Have you any reason to be dissatisfied with my

choice?" I asked.

"Not at all. I think she is one of the most charming young ladies I

ever met, and might have been most useful in such work as we have

been doing. She has a decided genius that way; witness the way in

which she preserved that Agra plan from all the other papers of her

father. But love is an emotional thing, and whatever is emotional is

opposed to that true cold reason which I place above all things. I

should never marry myself, lest I bias my judgment."

"I trust," said I, laughing, "that my judgment may survive the

ordeal. But you look weary."

"Yes, the reaction is already upon me. I shall be as limp as a rag

for a week."

"Strange," said I, "how terms of what in another man I should call

laziness alternate with fits of splendid energy and vigor."

"Yes," he answered, "there are in me the makings of a very fine

loafer, and also of a pretty spry sort of fellow. I often think of

those lines of old Goethe--

''Schade dass die Natur nur _einen_ Mensch aus dir schuf,

Denn zum wurdigen Mann war und zum Schelmen der Stoff.'

By the way, apropos of this Norwood business, you see that they had,

as I surmised, a confederate in the house, who could be none other

than Lal Rao, the butler; so Jones actually has the undivided honor

of having caught one fish in his great haul."

"The division seems rather unfair," I remarked. "You have done all

the work in this business. I get a wife out of it, Jones gets the

credit, pray what remains for you?"

"For me," said Sherlock Holmes, "there still remains the cocaine

bottle." And he stretched his long white hand up for it.

A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA

BY SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE

_"A Scandal in Bohemia," which many people consider the author's best

short story, describes the one instance in which Sherlock Holmes

acknowledges himself "beaten by a woman's wit"; he always speaks of

Irene Adler as THE woman. St. John's Wood, London, where the scene

of the story is laid, is well known as the quarter of the city in

which the professional artistic element of the population resides._

A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA

By SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE

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 practise), 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 lighted, 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 risen

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 armchair, 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 practise 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 fire-light 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-slicking specimen of the

London slavey. As to your practise, 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 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 armchair. "You see, but you do not 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! You have not observed. And yet you have seen. That is

just my point. Now, I know 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

wears 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. Insensibly 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 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 armchair, 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 front 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 cheek-bones, a black visard-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.

"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,

Doctor 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 that 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 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 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 for

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 monogram 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 traveled. 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 Lotham von Saxe-Meiningen, 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."

"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,

thoughtfully. "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."

II

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 hand 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 hostlers 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 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

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 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 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 toward 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

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 afterward 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

prepared for the new rôle 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 equaled. 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 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 burglarized."

"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

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

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 the 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 lighted, 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

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 entrusted 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 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-hostlers, 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 led toward 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 overprecipitance 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

lighted 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 the 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 upstairs, got

into my walking clothes, as I call them, and came down just as you

departed.

"Well, I followed you to the 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 good-night, 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 hindrance from one whom he has cruelly wronged. I keep

it only to safeguard myself, and 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, _nee_ 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.

THE DOCTOR, HIS WIFE, AND THE CLOCK

BY ANNA KATHARINE GREEN

_Anna Katharine Green (Rohlfs), whose name is firmly linked in the

public mind with "The Leavenworth Case," is recognized as the

foremost American writer of detective stories. Of these, Mrs. Rohlfs

considers "The Doctor, His Wife, and the Clock" her most successful

effort in the short story form. Additional interest arises from the

fact that the scene is laid in those historic old buildings in

Lafayette Place opposite the Astor Library, known as "the Colonnade

Row," in which lived John Jacob Astor and other rich merchants two

generations ago._

THE DOCTOR, HIS WIFE, AND THE CLOCK

By ANNA KATHARINE GREEN

(MRS. CHARLES ROHLFS)

I

On the 17th of July, 1851, a tragedy of no little interest occurred

in one of the residences of the Colonnade in Lafayette Place.

Mr. Hasbrouck, a well-known and highly respected citizen, was

attacked in his room by an unknown assailant, and shot dead before

assistance could reach him. His murderer escaped, and the problem

offered to the police was, how to identify this person who, by some

happy chance or by the exercise of the most remarkable forethought,

had left no traces behind him, or any clue by which he could be

followed.

The affair was given to a young man, named Ebenezer Gryce, to

investigate, and the story, as he tells it, is this:

When, some time after midnight, I reached Lafayette Place, I found

the block lighted from end to end. Groups of excited men and women

peered from the open doorways, and mingled their shadows with those

of the huge pillars which adorn the front of this picturesque block

of dwellings.

The house in which the crime had been committed was near the centre

of the row, and, long before I reached it, I had learned from more

than one source that the alarm was first given to the street by a

woman's shriek, and secondly by the shouts of an old man-servant who

had appeared, in a half-dressed condition, at the window of Mr.

Hasbrouck's room, crying, "Murder! murder!"

But when I had crossed the threshold, I was astonished at the paucity

of the facts to be gleaned from the inmates themselves. The old

servitor, who was the first to talk, had only this account of the

crime to give.

The family, which consisted of Mr. Hasbrouck, his wife, and three

servants, had retired for the night at the usual hour and under the

usual auspices. At eleven o'clock the lights were all extinguished,

and the whole household asleep, with the possible exception of Mr.

Hasbrouck himself, who, being a man of large business

responsibilities, was frequently troubled with insomnia.

Suddenly Mrs. Hasbrouck woke with a start. Had she dreamed the words

that were ringing in her ears, or had they been actually uttered in

her hearing? They were short, sharp words, full of terror and

menace, and she had nearly satisfied herself that she had imagined

them, when there came, from somewhere near the door, a sound she

neither understood nor could interpret, but which filled her with

inexplicable terror, and made her afraid to breathe, or even to

stretch forth her hand toward her husband, whom she supposed to be

sleeping at her side. At length another strange sound, which she was

sure was not due to her imagination, drove her to make an attempt to

rouse him, when she was horrified to find that she was alone in the

bed, and her husband nowhere within reach.

Filled now with something more than nervous apprehension, she flung

herself to the floor, and tried to penetrate, with frenzied glances,

the surrounding darkness. But the blinds and shutters both having

been carefully closed by Mr. Hasbrouck before retiring, she found

this impossible, and she was about to sink in terror to the floor,

when she heard a low gasp on the other side of the room, followed by

the suppressed cry:

"God! what have I done!"

The voice was a strange one, but before the fear aroused by this fact

could culminate in a shriek of dismay, she caught the sound of

retreating footsteps, and, eagerly listening, she heard them descend

the stairs and depart by the front door.