The
July which immediately succeeded my marriage was made memorable by three cases
of interest, in which I had the privilege of being associated with Sherlock Holmes
and of studying his methods. I find them recorded in my notes under the headings
of "The Adventure of the Second Stain," "The Adventure of the Naval Treaty," and
"The Adventure of the Tired Captain." The first of these, however, deals with
interest of such importance and implicates so many of the first families in the
kingdom that for many years it will be impossible to make it public. No case,
however, in which Holmes was engaged has ever illustrated the value of his analytical
methods so clearly or has impressed those who were associated with him so deeply.
I still retain an almost verbatim report of the interview in which he demonstrated
the true facts of the case to Monsieur Dubugue of the Paris police, and Fritz
von Waldbaum, the well-known specialist of Dantzig, both of whom had wasted their
energies upon what proved to be side-issues. The new century will have come, however,
before the story can be safely told.
Meanwhile I pass on to the second on my list, which
promised also at one time to be of national importance, and was marked by several
incidents which give it a quite unique character. During my schooldays I had been
intimately associated with a lad named Percy Phelps, who was of much the same
age as myself, though he was two classes ahead of me. He was a very brilliant
boy, and carried away every prize which the school had to offer, finished his
exploits by winning a scholarship which sent him on to continue his triumphant
career at Cambridge. He was, I remember, extremely well connected, and even when
we were all little boys together we knew that his mother's brother was Lord Holdhurst,
the great conservative politician. This gaudy relationship did him little good
at school. On the contrary, it seemed rather a piquant thing to us to chevy him
about the playground and hit him over the shins with a wicket.
But it was another thing when he came out into
the world. I heard vaguely that his abilities and the influences which he commanded
had won him a good position at the Foreign Office, and then he passed completely
out of my mind until the following letter recalled his existence:
Briarbrae, Woking.
My dear Watson, —
I have no doubt that you can remember "Tadpole" Phelps, who was in the fifth form
when you were in the third. It is possible even that you may have heard that through
my uncle's influence I obtained a good appointment at the Foreign Office, and
that I was in a situation of trust and honor until a horrible misfortune came
suddenly to blast my career. There is no use writing of the details of that dreadful
event. In the event of your acceding to my request it is probably that I shall
have to narrate them to you. I have only just recovered from nine weeks of brain-fever,
and am still exceedingly weak.
Do you think that you could bring your friend Mr.
Holmes down to see me? I should like to have his opinion of the case, though the
authorities assure me that nothing more can be done. Do try to bring him down,
and as soon as possible. Every minute seems an hour while I live in this state
of horrible suspense. Assure him that if I have not asked his advice sooner it
was not because I did not appreciate his talents, but because I have been off
my head ever since the blow fell. Now I am clear again, though I dare not think
of it too much for fear of a relapse. I am still so weak that I have to write,
as you see, by dictating. Do try to bring him.
Your old school-fellow,
Percy Phelps.
There was something that touched me as I read this
letter, something pitiable in the reiterated appeals to bring Holmes. So moved
was I that even had it been a difficult matter I should have tried it, but of
course I knew well that Holmes loved his art, so that he was ever as ready to
bring his aid as his client could be to receive it. My wife agreed with me that
not a moment should be lost in laying the matter before him, and so within an
hour of breakfast-time I found myself back once more in the old rooms in Baker
Street.
Holmes was seated at his side-table clad in his
dressing-gown, and working hard over a chemical investigation. A large curved
retort was boiling furiously in the bluish flame of a Bunsen burner, and the distilled
drops were condensing into a two-liter measure. My friend hardly glanced up as
I entered, and I, seeing that his investigation must be of importance, seated
myself in an armchair and waited. He dipped into this bottle or that, drawing
out a few drops of each with his glass pipette, and finally brought a test-tube
containing a solution over to the table. In his right hand he held a slip of litmus-paper.
"You come at a crisis, Watson," said he, "If this paper remains blue, all is well.
If it turns red, it means a man's life." He dipped it into the test-tube and it
flushed at once into a dull, dirty crimson. "Hum! I thought as much!" he cried.
"I will be at your service in an instant, Watson. You will find tobacco in the
Persian slipper."
He turned to his desk and scribbled off several
telegrams, which were handed over to the pageboy Then he threw himself down into
the chair opposite, and drew up his knees until his fingers clasped round his
long, thin shins. "A very commonplace little murder," said he. "You've got something
better, I fancy. You are the stormy petrel of crime, Watson. What is it?"
I handed him the letter, which he read with the
most concentrated attention. "It does not tell us very much, does it?" he remarked,
as he handed it back to me.
"Hardly anything."
"And yet the writing is of interest."
"But the writing is not his own."
"Precisely. It is a woman's."
"A man's surely," I cried.
"No, a woman's, and a woman of rare character.
You see, at the commencement of an investigation it is something to know that
your client is in close contact with some one who, for good or evil, has an exceptional
nature. My interest is already awakened in the case. If you are ready we will
start at once for Woking, and see this diplomatist who is in such evil case, and
the lady to whom he dictates his letters."
We were fortunate enough to catch an early train
at Waterloo, and in a little under an hour we found ourselves among the fir-woods
and the heather of Woking. Briarbrae proved to be a large detached house standing
in extensive grounds within a few minutes' walk of the station. On sending in
our cards we were shown into an elegantly appointed drawing-room, where we were
joined in a few minutes by a rather stout man who received us with much hospitality.
His age may have been nearer forty than thirty, but his cheeks were so ruddy and
his eyes so merry that he still conveyed the impression of a plump and mischievous
boy. "I am so glad that you have come," said he, shaking our hands with effusion.
"Percy has been inquiring for you all morning. Ah, poor old chap, he clings to
any straw! His father and his mother asked me to see you, for the mere mention
of the subject is very painful to them."
"We have had no details yet," observed Holmes.
"I perceive that you are not yourself a member of the family."
Our acquaintance looked surprised, and then, glancing
down, he began to laugh. "Of course you saw the J H monogram on my locket," said
he. "For a moment I thought you had done something clever. Joseph Harrison is
my name, and as Percy is to marry my sister Annie I shall at least be a relation
by marriage. You will find my sister in his room, for she has nursed him hand-and-foot
this two months back. Perhaps we'd better go in at once, for I know how impatient
he is."
The chamber in which we were shown was on the same
floor as the drawing-room. It was furnished partly as a sitting and partly as
a bedroom, with flowers arranged daintily in every nook and corner. A young man,
very pale and worn, was lying upon a sofa near the open window, through which
came the rich scent of the garden and the balmy summer air. A woman was sitting
beside him, who rose as we entered. "Shall I leave, Percy?" she asked.
He clutched her hand to detain her. "How are you,
Watson?" said he, cordially. "I should never have known you under that mustache,
and I dare say you would not be prepared to swear to me. This I presume is your
celebrated friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes?"
I introduced him in a few words, and we both sat
down. The stout young man had left us, but his sister still remained with her
hand in that of the invalid. She was a striking-looking woman, a little short
and thick for symmetry, but with a beautiful olive complexion, large, dark, Italian
eyes, and a wealth of deep black hair. Her rich tints made the white face of her
companion the more worn and haggard by the contrast.
"I won't waste your time," said he, raising himself
upon the sofa. "I'll plunge into the matter without further preamble. I was a
happy and successful man, Mr. Holmes, and on the eve of being married, when a
sudden and dreadful misfortune wrecked all my prospects in life.
"I was, as Watson may have told you, in the Foreign
Office, and through the influences of my uncle, Lord Holdhurst, I rose rapidly
to a responsible position. When my uncle became foreign minister in this administration
he gave me several missions of trust, and as I always brought them to a successful
conclusion, he came at last to have the utmost confidence in my ability and tact.
"Nearly ten weeks ago—to be more accurate,
on the 23d of May—he called me into his private room, and, after complimenting
me on the good work which I had done, he informed me that he had a new commission
of trust for me to execute.
"'This,' said he, taking a gray roll of paper from
his bureau, 'is the original of that secret treaty between England and Italy of
which, I regret to say, some rumors have already got into the public press. It
is of enormous importance that nothing further should leak out. The French or
the Russian embassy would pay an immense sum to learn the contents of these papers.
They should not leave my bureau were it not that it is absolutely necessary to
have them copied. You have a desk in your office?"
"'Yes, sir.'
"'Then take the treaty and lock it up there. I
shall give directions that you may remain behind when the others go, so that you
may copy it at your leisure without fear of being overlooked. When you have finished,
relock both the original and the draft in the desk, and hand them over to me personally
tomorrow. morning.'
"I took the papers and—"
"Excuse me an instant," said Holmes. "Were you
alone during this conversation?"
"Absolutely."
"In a large room?"
"Thirty feet each way."
"In the center?"
"Yes, about it."
"And speaking low?"
"My uncle's voice is always remarkably low. I hardly
spoke at all."
"Thank you," said Holmes, shutting his eyes; "pray
go on."
"I did exactly what he indicated, and waited until
the other clerks had departed. One of them in my room, Charles Gorot, had some
arrears of work to make up, so I left him there and went out to dine. When I returned
he was gone. I was anxious to hurry my work, for I knew that Joseph—the Mr.
Harrison whom you saw just now—was in town, and that he would travel down
to Woking by the eleven-o'clock train, and I wanted if possible to catch it.
"When I came to examine the treaty I saw at once
that it was of such importance that my uncle had been guilty of no exaggeration
in what he had said. Without going into details, I may say that it defined the
position of Great Britain towards the Triple Alliance, and foreshadowed the policy
which this country would pursue in the event of the French fleet gaining a complete
ascendancy over that of Italy in the Mediterranean. The questions treated in it
were purely naval. At the end were the signatures of the high dignitaries who
had signed it. I glanced my eyes over it, and then settled down to my task of
copying.
"It was a long document, written in the French
language, and containing twenty-six separate articles. I copied as quickly as
I could, but at nine o'clock I had only done nine articles, and it seemed hopeless
for me to attempt to catch my train. I was feeling drowsy and stupid, partly from
my dinner and also from the effects of a long day's work. A cup of coffee would
clear my brain. A commissionnaire remains all night in a little lodge at the foot
of the stairs, and is in the habit of making coffee at his spirit-lamp for any
of the officials who may be working over time. I rang the bell, therefore, to
summon him.
"To my surprise, it was a woman who answered the
summons, a large, coarse-faced, elderly woman, in an apron. She explained that
she was the commissionnaire's wife, who did the charing, and I gave her the order
for the coffee.
"I wrote two more articles and then, feeling more
drowsy than ever, I rose and walked up and down the room to stretch my legs. My
coffee had not yet come, and I wondered what was the cause of the delay could
be. Opening the door, I started down the corridor to find out. There was a straight
passage, dimly lighted, which led from the room in which I had been working, and
was the only exit from it. It ended in a curving staircase, with the commissionnaire's
lodge in the passage at the bottom. Half way down this staircase is a small landing,
with another passage running into it at right angles. This second one leads by
means of a second small stair to a side door, used by servants, and also as a
short cut by clerks when coming from Charles Street. Here is a rough chart of
the place."
"Thank you. I think that I quite follow you," said
Sherlock Holmes.
"It is of the utmost importance that you should
notice this point. I went down the stairs and into the hall, where I found the
commissionnaire fast asleep in his box, with the kettle boiling furiously upon
the spirit-lamp. I took off the kettle and blew out the lamp, for the water was
spurting over the floor. Then I put out my hand and was about to shake the man,
who was still sleeping soundly, when a bell over his head rang loudly, and he
woke with a start.
"'Mr. Phelps, sir!' said he, looking at me in bewilderment.
"'I came down to see if my coffee was ready.'
"'I was boiling the kettle when I fell asleep,
sir.' He looked at me and then up at the still quivering bell with an ever-growing
astonishment upon his face.
"'If you was here, sir, then who rang the bell?'
he asked.
"'The bell!' I cried. 'What bell is it?'
"'It's the bell of the room you were working in.'
"A cold hand seemed to close round my heart. Some
one, then, was in that room where my precious treaty lay upon the table. I ran
frantically up the stair and along the passage. There was no one in the corridors,
Mr. Holmes. There was no one in the room. All was exactly as I left it, save only
that the papers which had been committed to my care had been taken from the desk
on which they lay. The copy was there, and the original was gone."
Holmes sat up in his chair and rubbed his hands.
I could see that the problem was entirely to his heart. "Pray, what did you do
then?" he murmured.
"I recognized in an instant that the thief must
have come up the stairs from the side door. Of course I must have met him if he
had come the other way."
"You were satisfied that he could not have been
concealed in the room all the time, or in the corridor which you have just described
as dimly lighted?"
"It is absolutely impossible. A rat could not conceal
himself either in the room or the corridor. There is no cover at all."
"Thank you. Pray proceed."
"The commissionnaire, seeing by my pale face that
something was to be feared, had followed me upstairs. Now we both rushed along
the corridor and down the steep steps which led to Charles Street. The door at
the bottom was closed, but unlocked. We flung it open and rushed out. I can distinctly
remember that as we did so there came three chimes from a neighboring clock. It
was quarter to ten."
"That is of enormous importance," said Holmes,
making a note upon his shirt-cuff.
"The night was very dark, and a thin, warm rain
was falling. There was no one in Charles Street, but a great traffic was going
on, as usual, in Whitehall, at the extremity. We rushed along the pavement, bareheaded
as we were, and at the far corner we found a policeman standing.
"'A robbery has been committed,' I gasped. 'A document
of immense value has been stolen from the Foreign Office. Has any one passed this
way?'
"'I have been standing here for a quarter of an
hour, sir,' said he; 'only one person has passed during that time—a woman,
tall and elderly, with a Paisley shawl.'
"'Ah, that is only my wife,' cried the commissionnaire;
'has no one else passed?'
"'No one.'
"'Then it must be the other way that the thief
took,' cried the fellow, tugging at my sleeve.
"'But I was not satisfied, and the attempts which
he made to draw me away increased my suspicions.
"'Which way did the woman go?' I cried.
"'I don't know, sir. I noticed her pass, but I
had no special reason for watching her. She seemed to be in a hurry.'
"'How long ago was it?'
"'Oh, not very many minutes.'
"'Within the last five?'
"'Well, it could not be more than five.'
"'You're only wasting your time, sir, and every
minute now is of importance,' cried the commissionnaire; 'take my word for it
that my old woman has nothing to do with it, and come down to the other end of
the street. Well, if you won't, I will.' And with that he rushed off in the other
direction.
"But I was after him in an instant and caught him
by the sleeve.
"'Where do you live?' said I.
"'16 Ivy Lane, Brixton,' he answered. 'But don't
let yourself be drawn away upon a false scent, Mr. Phelps. Come to the other end
of the street and let us see if we can hear of anything.'
"Nothing was to be lost by following his advice.
With the policeman we both hurried down, but only to find the street full of traffic,
many people coming and going, but all only too eager to get to a place of safety
upon so wet a night. There was no lounger who could tell us who had passed.
"Then we returned to the office, and searched the
stairs and the passage without result. The corridor which led to the room was
laid down with a kind of creamy linoleum which shows an impression very easily.
We examined it very carefully, but found no outline of any footmark."
"Had it been raining all evening?"
"Since about seven."
"How is it, then, that the woman who came into
the room about nine left no traces with her muddy boots?"
"I am glad you raised the point. It occurred to
me at the time. The charwomen are in the habit of taking off their boots at the
commissionnaire's office, and putting on list slippers."
"That is very clear. There were no marks, then,
though the night was a wet one? The chain of events is certainly one of extraordinary
interest. What did you do next?
"We examined the room also. There is no possibility
of a secret door, and the windows are quite thirty feet from the ground. Both
of them were fastened on the inside. The carpet prevents any possibility of a
trapdoor, and the ceiling is of the ordinary whitewashed kind. I will pledge my
life that whoever stole my papers could only have come through the door."
"How about the fireplace?"
"They use none. There is a stove. The bell-rope
hangs from the wire just to the right of my desk. Whoever rang it must have come
right up to the desk to do it. But why should any criminal wish to ring the bell?
It is a most insoluble mystery."
"Certainly the incident was unusual. What were
your next steps? You examined the room, I presume, to see if the intruder had
left any traces—any cigar-end or dropped glove or hairpin or other trifle?"
"There was nothing of the sort."
"No smell?"
"Well, we never thought of that."
"Ah, a scent of tobacco would have been worth a
great deal to us in such an investigation."
"I never smoke myself, so I think I should have
observed it if there had been any smell of tobacco. There was absolutely no clue
of any kind. The only tangible fact was that the commissionnaire's wife—Mrs.
Tangey was the name—had hurried out of the place. He could give no explanation
save that it was about the time when the woman always went home. The policeman
and I agreed that our best plan would be to seize the woman before she could get
rid of the papers, presuming that she had them.
"The alarm had reached Scotland Yard by this time,
and Mr. Forbes, the detective, came round at once and took up the case with a
great deal of energy. We hired a hansom, and in half an hour we were at the address
which had been given to us. A young woman opened the door, who proved to be Mrs.
Tangey's eldest daughter. Her mother had not come back yet, and we were shown
into the front room to wait.
"About ten minutes later a knock came at the door,
and here we made the one serious mistake for which I blame myself. Instead of
opening the door ourselves, we allowed the girl to do so. We heard her say, 'Mother,
there are two men in the house waiting to see you,' and an instant afterwards
we heard the patter of feet rushing down the passage. Forbes flung open the door,
and we both ran into the back room or kitchen, but the woman had got there before
us. She stared at us with defiant eyes, and then, suddenly recognizing me, an
expression of absolute astonishment came over her face.
"'Why, if it isn't Mr. Phelps, of the office!'
she cried.
"'Come, come, who did you think we were when you
ran away from us?' asked my companion.
"'I thought you were the brokers,' said she, 'we
have had some trouble with a tradesman.'
"'That's not quite good enough,' answered Forbes.
'We have reason to believe that you have taken a paper of importance from the
Foreign Office, and that you ran in here to dispose of it. You must come back
with us to Scotland Yard to be searched.'
"It was in vain that she protested and resisted.
A four-wheeler was brought, and we all three drove back in it. We had first made
an examination of the kitchen, and especially of the kitchen fire, to see whether
she might have made away with the papers during the instant that she was alone.
There were no signs, however, of any ashes or scraps. When we reached Scotland
Yard she was handed over at once to the female searcher. I waited in an agony
of suspense until she came back with her report. There were no signs of the papers.
"Then for the first time the horror of my situation
came in its full force. Hitherto I had been acting, and action had numbed thought.
I had been so confident of regaining the treaty at once that I had not dared to
think of what would be the consequence if I failed to do so. But now there was
nothing more to be done, and I had leisure to realize my position. It was horrible.
Watson there would tell you that I was a nervous, sensitive boy at school. It
is my nature. I thought of my uncle and of his colleagues in the Cabinet, of the
shame which I had brought upon him, upon myself, upon every one connected with
me. What though I was the victim of an extraordinary accident? No allowance is
made for accidents where diplomatic interests are at stake. I was ruined, shamefully,
hopelessly ruined. I don't know what I did. I fancy I must have made a scene.
I have a dim recollection of a group of officials who crowded round me, endeavoring
to soothe me. One of them drove down with me to Waterloo, and saw me into the
Woking train. I believe that he would have come all the way had it not been that
Dr. Ferrier, who lives near me, was going down by that very train. The doctor
most kindly took charge of me, and it was well he did so, for I had a fit in the
station, and before we reached home I was practically a raving maniac.
"You can imagine the state of things here when
they were roused from their beds by the doctor's ringing and found me in this
condition. Poor Annie here and my mother were brokenhearted. Dr. Ferrier had just
heard enough from the detective at the station to be able to give an idea of what
had happened, and his story did not mend matters. It was evident to all that I
was in for a long illness, so Joseph was bundled out of this cheery bedroom, and
it was turned into a sickroom for me. Here I have lain, Mr. Holmes, for over nine
weeks, unconscious, and raving with brain-fever. If it had not been for Miss Harrison
here and for the doctor's care I should not be speaking to you now. She has nursed
me by day and a hired nurse has looked after me by night, for in my mad fits I
was capable of anything.
"Slowly my reason has cleared, but it is only
during the last three days that my memory has quite returned. Sometimes I wish
that it never had. The first thing that I did was to wire to Mr. Forbes, who had
the case in hand. He came out, and assures me that, though everything has been
done, no trace of a clue has been discovered. The commissionnaire and his wife
have been examined in every way without any light being thrown upon the matter.
The suspicions of the police then rested upon young Gorot, who, as you may remember,
stayed over time in the office that night. His remaining behind and his French
name were really the only two points which could suggest suspicion; but, as a
matter of fact, I did not begin work until he had gone, and his people are of
Huguenot extraction, but as English in sympathy and tradition as you and I are.
Nothing was found to implicate him in any way, and there the matter dropped. I
turn to you, Mr. Holmes, as absolutely my last hope. If you fail me, then my honor
as well as my position are forever forfeited."
The invalid sank back upon his cushions, tired
out by this long recital, while his nurse poured him out a glass of some stimulating
medicine. Holmes sat silently, with his head thrown back and his eyes closed,
in an attitude which might seem listless to a stranger, but which I knew betokened
the most intense self-absorption.
"You statement has been so explicit," said he at
last, "that you have really left me very few questions to ask. There is one of
the very utmost importance, however. Did you tell any one that you had this special
task to perform?"
"No one."
"Not Miss Harrison here, for example?"
"No. I had not been back to Woking between getting
the order and executing the commission."
"And none of your people had by chance been to
see you?"
"None."
"Did any of them know their way about in the office?"
"Oh, yes, all of them had been shown over it."
"Still, of course, if you said nothing to any one
about the treaty these inquiries are irrelevant."
"I said nothing."
"Do you know anything of the commissionnaire?"
"Nothing except that he is an old soldier."
"What regiment?"
"Oh, I have heard—Coldstream Guards."
"Thank you. I have no doubt I can get details from
Forbes. The authorities are excellent at amassing facts, though they do not always
use them to advantage. What a lovely thing a rose is!" He walked past the couch
to the open window, and held up the drooping stalk of a moss-rose, looking down
at the dainty blend of crimson and green. It was a new phase of his character
to me, for I had never before seen him show any keen interest in natural objects.
"There is nothing in which deduction is so necessary
as in religion," said he, leaning with his back against the shutters. "It can
be built up as an exact science by the reasoner. Our highest assurance of the
goodness of Providence seems to me to rest in the flowers. All other things, our
powers our desires, our food, are all really necessary for our existence in the
first instance. But this rose is an extra. Its smell and its color are an embellishment
of life, not a condition of it. It is only goodness which gives extras, and so
I say again that we have much to hope from the flowers."
Percy Phelps and his nurse looked at Holmes during
this demonstration with surprise and a good deal of disappointment written upon
their faces. He had fallen into a reverie, with the moss-rose between his fingers.
It had lasted some minutes before the young lady broke in upon it. "Do you see
any prospect of solving this mystery, Mr. Holmes?" she asked, with a touch of
asperity in her voice.
"Oh, the mystery!" he answered, coming back with
a start to the realities of life. "Well, it would be absurd to deny that the case
is a very abstruse and complicated one, but I can promise you that I will look
into the matter and let you know any points which may strike me."
"Do you see any clue?"
"You have furnished me with seven, but, of course,
I must test them before I can pronounce upon their value."
"You suspect some one?"
"I suspect myself."
"What!"
"Of coming to conclusions too rapidly."
"Then go to London and test your conclusions."
"Your advice is very excellent, Miss Harrison,"
said Holmes, rising. "I think, Watson, we cannot do better. Do not allow yourself
to indulge in false hopes, Mr. Phelps. The affair is a very tangled one."
"I shall be in a fever until I see you again,"
cried the diplomatist.
"Well, I'll come out be the same train tomorrow.,
though it's more than likely that my report will be a negative one."
"God bless you for promising to come," cried our
client. "It gives me fresh life to know that something is being done. By the way,
I have had a letter from Lord Holdhurst."
"Ha! What did he say?"
"He was cold, but not harsh. I dare say my severe
illness prevented him from being that. He repeated that the matter was of the
utmost importance, and added that no steps would be taken about my future—by
which he means, of course, my dismissal—until my health was restored and
I had an opportunity of repairing my misfortune."
"Well, that was reasonable and considerate," said
Holmes.
"Come, Watson, for we have a good day's work before
us in town."
Mr. Joseph Harrison drove us down to the station,
and we were soon whirling up in a Portsmouth train. Holmes was sunk in profound
thought, and hardly opened his mouth until we had passed Clapham Junction. "It's
a very cheery thing to come into London by any of these lines which run high,
and allow you to look down upon the houses like this."
I thought he was joking, for the view was sordid
enough, but he soon explained himself.
"Look at those big, isolated clumps of building
rising up above the slates, like brick islands in a lead-colored sea."
"The board-schools."
"Lighthouses, my boy! Beacons of the future! Capsules
with hundreds of bright little seeds in each, out of which will spring the wise,
better England of the future. I suppose that man Phelps does not drink?"
"I should not think so."
"Nor should I, but we are bound to take every possibility
into account. The poor devil has certainly got himself into very deep water, and
it's a question whether we shall ever be able to get him ashore. What did you
think of Miss Harrison?"
"A girl of strong character."
"Yes, but she is a good sort, or I am mistaken.
She and her brother are the only children of an iron-master somewhere up Northumberland
way. He got engaged to her when traveling last winter, and she came down to be
introduced to his people, with her brother as escort. Then came the smash, and
she stayed on to nurse her lover, while brother Joseph, finding himself pretty
snug, stayed on too. I've been making a few independent inquiries, you see. But
today must be a day of inquiries."
"My practice—" I began.
"Oh, if you find your own cases more interesting
than mine—" said Holmes, with some asperity.
"I was going to say that my practice could get
along very well for a day or two, since it is the slackest time in the year."
"Excellent," said he, recovering his good humor.
"Then we'll look into this matter together. I think that we should begin be seeing
Forbes. He can probably tell us all the details we want until we know from what
side the case is to be approached.
"You said you had a clue?"
"Well, we have several, but we can only test their
value by further inquiry. The most difficult crime to track is the one which is
purposeless. Now this is not purposeless. Who is it who profits by it? There is
the French ambassador, there is the Russian, there is whoever might sell it to
either of these, and there is Lord Holdhurst."
"Lord Holdhurst!"
"Well, it is just conceivable that a statesman
might find himself in a position where he was not sorry to have such a document
accidentally destroyed."
"Not a statesman with the honorable record of Lord
Holdhurst?"
"It is a possibility and we cannot afford to disregard
it. We shall see the noble lord today and find out if he can tell us anything.
Meanwhile I have already set inquiries on foot."
"Already?"
"Yes, I sent wires from Woking station to every
evening paper in London. This advertisement will appear in each of them." He handed
over a sheet torn from a notebook On it was scribbled in pencil:
"£10 reward. The
number of the cab which dropped a fare at or about the door of the Foreign Office
in Charles Street at quarter to ten in the evening of May 23d. Apply 221 B, Baker
Street."
"You are confident that the thief came in a cab?"
"If not, there is no harm done. But if Mr. Phelps
is correct in stating that there is no hiding-place either in the room or the
corridors, then the person must have come from outside. If he came from outside
on so wet a night, and yet left no trace of damp upon the linoleum, which was
examined within a few minutes of his passing, then it is exceeding probably that
he came in a cab. Yes, I think that we may safely deduce a cab."
"It sounds plausible."
"That is one of the clues of which I spoke. It
may lead us to something. And then, of course, there is the bell—which is
the most distinctive feature of the case. Why should the bell ring? Was it the
thief who did it out of bravado? Or was it some one who was with the thief who
did it in order to prevent the crime? Or was it an accident? Or was it—?"
He sank back into the state of intense and silent
thought from which he had emerged; but it seemed to me, accustomed as I was to
his every mood, that some new possibility had dawned suddenly upon him.
It was twenty past three when we reached our terminus,
and after a hasty luncheon at the buffet we pushed on at once to Scotland Yard.
Holmes had already wired to Forbes, and we found him waiting to receive us—a
small, foxy man with a sharp but by no means amiable expression. He was decidedly
frigid in his manner to us, especially when he heard the errand upon which we
had come. "I've heard of your methods before now, Mr. Holmes," said he, tartly.
"You are ready enough to use all the information that the police can lay at your
disposal, and then you try to finish the case yourself and bring discredit on
them."
"On the contrary," said Holmes, "out of my last
fifty-three cases my name has only appeared in four, and the police have had all
the credit in forty-nine. I don't blame you for not knowing this, for you are
young and inexperienced, but if you wish to get on in your new duties you will
work with me and not against me."
"I'd be very glad of a hint or two," said the detective,
changing his manner. "I've certainly had no credit from the case so far."
"What steps have you taken?"
"Tangey, the commissionnaire, has been shadowed.
He left the Guards with a good character and we can find nothing against him.
His wife is a bad lot, though. I fancy she knows more about this than appears."
"Have you shadowed her?"
"We have set one of our women on to her. Mrs. Tangey
drinks, and our woman has been with her twice when she was well on, but she could
get nothing out of her."
"I understand that they have had brokers in the
house?"
"Yes, but they were paid off."
"Where did the money come from?"
"That was all right. His pension was due. They
have not shown any sign of being in funds."
"What explanation did she give of having answered
the bell when Mr. Phelps rang for the coffee?"
"She said that he husband was very tired and she
wished to relieve him."
"Well, certainly that would agree with his being
found a little later asleep in his chair. There is nothing against them then but
the woman's character. Did you ask her why she hurried away that night? Her haste
attracted the attention of the police constable."
"She was later than usual and wanted to get home."
"Did you point out to her that you and Mr. Phelps,
who started at least twenty minutes after he, got home before her?"
"She explains that by the difference between a
bus and a hansom."
"Did she make it clear why, on reaching her house,
she ran into the back kitchen?"
"Because she had the money there with which to
pay off the brokers."
"She has at least an answer for everything. Did
you ask her whether in leaving she met any one or saw any one loitering about
Charles Street?"
"She saw no one but the constable."
"Well, you seem to have cross-examined her pretty
thoroughly. What else have you done?"
"The clerk Gorot has been shadowed all these nine
weeks, but without result. We can show nothing against him."
"Anything else?"
"Well, we have nothing else to go upon—no
evidence of any kind."
"Have you formed a theory about how that bell rang?"
"Well, I must confess that it beats me. It was
a cool hand, whoever it was, to go and give the alarm like that."
"Yes, it was queer thing to do. Many thanks to
you for what you have told me. If I can put the man into your hands you shall
hear from me. Come along, Watson."
"Where are we going to now?" I asked, as we left
the office.
"We are now going to interview Lord Holdhurst,
the cabinet minister and future premier of England."
We were fortunate in finding that Lord Holdhurst
was still in his chambers in Downing Street, and on Holmes sending in his card
we were instantly shown up. The statesman received us with that old-fashioned
courtesy for which he is remarkable, and seated us on the two luxuriant lounges
on either side of the fireplace. Standing on the rug between us, with his slight,
tall figure, his sharp features, thoughtful face, and curling hair prematurely
tinged with gray, he seemed to represent that not to common type, a nobleman who
is in truth noble.
"Your name is very familiar to me, Mr. Holmes,"
said he, smiling. "And, of course, I cannot pretend to be ignorant of the object
of your visit. There has only been one occurrence in these offices which could
call for your attention. In whose interest are you acting, may I ask?"
"In that of Mr. Percy Phelps," answered Holmes.
"Ah, my unfortunate nephew! You can understand
that our kinship makes it the more impossible for me to screen him in any way.
I fear that the incident must have a very prejudicial effect upon his career."
"But if the document is found?"
"Ah, that, of course, would be different."
"I had one or two questions which I wished to ask
you, Lord Holdhurst."
"I shall be happy to give you any information in
my power."
"Was it in this room that you gave your instructions
as to the copying of the document?"
"It was."
"Then you could hardly have been overheard?"
"It is out of the question."
"Did you ever mention to any one that it was your
intention to give any one the treaty to be copied?"
"Never."
"You are certain of that?"
"Absolutely."
"Well, since you never said so, and Mr. Phelps
never said so, and nobody else knew anything of the matter, then the thief's presence
in the room was purely accidental. He saw his chance and he took it."
The statesman smiled. "You take me out of my province
there," said he.
Holmes considered for a moment. "There is another
very important point which I wish to discuss with you," said he. "You feared,
as I understand, that very grave results might follow from the details of this
treaty becoming known."
A shadow passed over the expressive face of the
statesman.
"Very grave results indeed."
"Any have they occurred?"
"Not yet."
"If the treaty had reached, let us say, the French
or Russian Foreign Office, you would expect to hear of it?"
"I should," said Lord Holdhurst, with a wry face.
"Since nearly ten weeks have elapsed, then, and
nothing has been heard, it is not unfair to suppose that for some reason the treaty
has not reached them."
Lord Holdhurst shrugged his shoulders. "We can
hardly suppose, Mr. Holmes, that the thief took the treaty in order to frame it
and hang it up."
"Perhaps he is waiting for a better price."
"If he waits a little longer he will get no price
at all. The treaty will cease to be secret in a few months."
"That is most important," said Holmes. "Of course,
it is a possible supposition that the thief has had a sudden illness—"
"An attack of brain-fever, for example?" asked
the statesman, flashing a swift glance at him.
"I did not say so," said Holmes, imperturbably.
"And now, Lord Holdhurst, we have already taken up too much of your valuable time,
and we shall wish you good-day."
"Every success to your investigation, be the criminal
who it may," answered the nobleman, as he bowed us out the door.
"He's a fine fellow," said Holmes, as we came out
into Whitehall. "But he has a struggle to keep up his position. He is far from
rich and has many calls. You noticed, of course, that his boots had been resoled.
Now, Watson, I won't detain you from your legitimate work any longer. I shall
do nothing more today, unless I have an answer to my cab advertisement. But I
should be extremely obliged to you if you would come down with me to Woking tomorrow.,
by the same train which we took yesterday."
I met him accordingly next morning and we traveled
down to Woking together. He had had no answer to his advertisement, he said, and
no fresh light had been thrown upon the case. He had, when he so willed it, the
utter immobility of countenance of a red Indian, and I could not gather from his
appearance whether he was satisfied or not with the position of the case. His
conversation, I remember, was about the Bertillon system of measurements, and
he expressed his enthusiastic admiration of the French savant.
We found our client still under the charge of his
devoted nurse, but looking considerably better than before. He rose from the sofa
and greeted us without difficulty when we entered. "Any news?" he asked, eagerly.
"My report, as I expected, is a negative one,"
said Holmes. "I have seen Forbes, and I have seen your uncle, and I have set one
or two trains of inquiry upon foot which may lead to something."
"You have not lost heart, then?"
"By no means."
"God bless you for saying that!" cried Miss Harrison.
"If we keep our courage and our patience the truth must come out."
"We have more to tell you than you have for us,"
said Phelps, reseating himself upon the couch.
"I hoped you might have something."
"Yes, we have had an adventure during the night,
and one which might have proved to be a serious one."
His expression grew very grave as he spoke, and
a look of something akin to fear sprang up in his eyes. "Do you know," said he,
"that I begin to believe that I am the unconscious center of some monstrous conspiracy,
and that my life is aimed at as well as my honor?"
"Ah!" cried Holmes.
"It sounds incredible, for I have not, as far as
I know, an enemy in the world. Yet from last night's experience I can come to
no other conclusion."
"Pray let me hear it."
"You must know that last night was the very first
night that I have ever slept without a nurse in the room. I was so much better
that I thought I could dispense with one. I had a night-light burning, however.
Well, about two in the morning I had sunk into a light sleep when I was suddenly
aroused by a slight noise. It was like the sound which a mouse makes when it is
gnawing a plank, and I lay listening to it for some time under the impression
that it must come from that cause. Then it grew louder, and suddenly there came
from the window a sharp metallic snick. I sat up in amazement. There could be
no doubt what the sounds were now. The first ones had been caused by some one
forcing an instrument through the slit between the sashes, and the second by the
catch being pressed back.
"There was a pause then for about ten minutes,
as if the person were waiting to see whether the noise had awakened me. Then I
heard a gentle creaking as the window was very slowly opened. I could stand it
no longer, for my nerves are not what they used to be. I sprang out of bed and
flung open the shutters. A man was crouching at the window. I could see little
of him, for he was gone like a flash. He was wrapped in some sort of cloak which
came across the lower part of his face. One thing only I am sure of, and that
is that he had some weapon in his hand. It looked to me like a long knife. I distinctly
saw the gleam of it as he turned to run."
"This is most interesting," said Holmes. "Pray
what did you do then?"
"I should have followed him through the open window
if I had been stronger. As it was, I rang the bell and roused the house. It took
me some little time, for the bell rings in the kitchen and the servants all sleep
upstairs. I shouted, however, and that brought Joseph down, and he roused the
others. Joseph and the groom found marks on the bed outside the window, but the
weather has been so dry lately that they found it hopeless to follow the trail
across the grass. There's a place, however, on the wooden fence which skirts the
road which shows signs, they tell me, as if some one had got over, and had snapped
the top of the rail in doing so. I have said nothing to the local police yet,
for I thought I had best have your opinion first."
This tale of our client's appeared to have an extraordinary
effect upon Sherlock Holmes. He rose from his chair and paced about the room in
uncontrollable excitement.
"Misfortunes never come single," said Phelps, smiling,
though it was evident that his adventure had somewhat shaken him.
"You have certainly had your share," said Holmes.
"Do you think you could walk round the house with me?"
"Oh, yes, I should like a little sunshine. Joseph
will come, too."
"And I also," said Miss Harrison.
"I am afraid not," said Holmes, shaking his head.
"I think I must ask you to remain sitting exactly where you are."
The young lady resumed her seat with an air of
displeasure. Her brother, however, had joined us and we set off all four together.
We passed round the lawn to the outside of the young diplomatist's window. There
were, as he had said, marks upon the bed, but they were hopelessly blurred and
vague.
Holmes stopped over them for an instant, and then
rose shrugging his shoulders. "I don't think any one could make much of this,"
said he. "Let us go round the house and see why this particular room was chose
by the burglar. I should have thought those larger windows of the drawing-room
and dining-room would have had more attractions for him."
"They are more visible from the road," suggested
Mr. Joseph Harrison.
"Ah, yes, of course. There is a door here which
he might have attempted. What is it for?"
"It is the side entrance for tradespeople. Of course
it is locked at night."
"Have you ever had an alarm like this before?"
"Never," said our client.
"Do you keep plate in the house, or anything to
attract burglars?"
"Nothing of value."
Holmes strolled round the house with his hands
in his pockets and a negligent air which was unusual with him. "By the way," said
he to Joseph Harrison, "you found some place, I understand, where the fellow scaled
the fence. Let us have a look at that!"
The plump young man led us to a spot where the
top of one of the wooden rails had been cracked. A small fragment of the wood
was hanging down. Holmes pulled it off and examined it critically.
"Do you think that was done last night? It looks
rather old, does it not?"
"Well, possibly so."
"There are no marks of any one jumping down upon
the other side. No, I fancy we shall get no help here. Let us go back to the bedroom
and talk the matter over."
Percy Phelps was walking very slowly, leaning upon
the arm of his future brother-in-law. Holmes walked swiftly across the lawn, and
we were at the open window of the bedroom long before the others came up. "Miss
Harrison," said Holmes, speaking with the utmost intensity of manner, "you must
stay where you are all day. Let nothing prevent you from staying where you are
all day. It is of the utmost importance."
"Certainly, if you wish it, Mr. Holmes," said the
girl in astonishment.
"When you go to bed lock the door of this room
on the outside and keep the key. Promise to do this."
"But Percy?"
"He will come to London with us."
"And am I to remain here?"
"It is for his sake. You can serve him. Quick!
Promise!"
She gave a quick nod of assent just as the other
two came up.
"Why do you sit moping there, Annie?" cried her
brother. "Come out into the sunshine!"
"No, thank you, Joseph. I have a slight headache
and this room is deliciously cool and soothing."
"What do you propose now, Mr. Holmes?" asked our
client.
"Well, in investigating this minor affair we must
not lose sight of our main inquiry. It would be a very great help to me if you
would come up to London with us."
"At once?"
"Well, as soon as you conveniently can. Say in
an hour."
"I feel quite strong enough, if I can really be
of any help."
"The greatest possible."
"Perhaps you would like me the stay there tonight?"
"I was just going to propose it."
"Then, if my friend of the night comes to revisit
me, he will find the bird flown. We are all in your hands, Mr. Holmes, and you
must tell us exactly what you would like done. Perhaps you would prefer that Joseph
came with us so as to look after me?"
"Oh, no; my friend Watson is a medical man, you
know, and he'll look after you. We'll have our lunch here, if you will permit
us, and then we shall all three set off for town together."
It was arranged as he suggested, though Miss Harrison
excused herself from leaving the bedroom, in accordance with Holmes's suggestion.
What the object of my friend's maneuvers was I could not conceive, unless it were
to keep the lady away from Phelps, who, rejoiced by his returning health and by
the prospect of action, lunched with us in the dining-room.
Holmes had still more startling surprise for us,
however, for, after accompanying us down to the station and seeing us into our
carriage, he calmly announced that he had no intention of leaving Woking. "There
are one or two small points which I should desire to clear up before I go," said
he. "Your absence, Mr. Phelps, will in some ways rather assist me. Watson, when
you reach London you would oblige me by driving at once to Baker Street with our
friend here, and remaining with him until I see you again. It is fortunate that
you are old school-fellows, as you must have much to talk over. Mr. Phelps can
have the spare bedroom tonight, and I will be with you in time for breakfast,
for there is a train which will take me into Waterloo at eight."
"But how about our investigation in London?" asked
Phelps, ruefully.
"We can do that tomorrow. I think that just at
present I can be of more immediate use here."
"You might tell them at Briarbrae that I hope to
be back tomorrow. night," cried Phelps, as we began to move from the platform.
"I hardly expect to go back to Briarbrae," answered
Holmes, and waved his hand to us cheerily as we shot out from the station.
Phelps and I talked it over on our journey, but
neither of us could devise a satisfactory reason for this new development.
"I suppose he wants to find out some clue as to
the burglary last night, if a burglar it was. For myself, I don't believe it was
an ordinary thief."
"What is your own idea, then?"
"Upon my word, you may put it down to my weak nerves
or not, but I believe there is some deep political intrigue going on around me,
and that for some reason that passes my understanding my life is aimed at by the
conspirators. It sounds high-flown and absurd, but consider the facts! Why should
a thief try to break in at a bedroom window, where there could be no hope of any
plunder, and why should he come with a long knife in his hand?"
"You are sure it was not a housebreaker's jimmy?"
"Oh, no, it was a knife. I saw the flash of the
blade quite distinctly."
"But why on earth should you be pursued with such
animosity?"
"Ah, that is the question."
"Well, if Holmes takes the same view, that would
account for his action, would it not? Presuming that your theory is correct, if
he can lay his hands upon the man who threatened you last night he will have gone
a long way towards finding who took the naval treaty. It is absurd to suppose
that you have two enemies, one of whom robs you, while the other threatens your
life."
"But Holmes said that he was not going to Briarbrae."
"I have known him for some time," said I, "but
I never knew him do anything yet without a very good reason," and with that our
conversation drifted off on to other topics. But it was a weary day for me. Phelps
was still weak after his long illness, and his misfortune made him querulous and
nervous. In vain I endeavored to interest him in Afghanistan, in India, in social
questions, in anything which might take his mind out of the groove. He would always
come back to his lost treaty, wondering, guessing, speculating, as to what Holmes
was doing, what steps Lord Holdhurst was taking, what news we should have in the
morning.
As the evening wore on his excitement became quite
painful. "You have implicit faith in Holmes?" he asked.
"I have seen him do some remarkable things."
"But he never brought light into anything quite
so dark as this?"
"Oh, yes; I have known him solve questions which
presented fewer clues than yours."
"But not where such large interests are at stake?"
"I don't know that. To my certain knowledge he
has acted on behalf of three of the reigning houses of Europe in very vital matters."
"But you know him well, Watson. He is such an inscrutable
fellow that I never quite know what to make of him. Do you think he is hopeful?
Do you think he expects to make a success of it?"
"He has said nothing."
"That is a bad sign."
"On the contrary, I have noticed that when he is
off the trail he generally says so. It is when he is on a scent and is not quite
absolutely sure yet that it is the right one, that he is most taciturn. Now, my
dear fellow, we can't help matters by making ourselves nervous about them, so
let me implore you to go to bed and so be fresh for whatever may await us tomorrow."
I was able at last to persuade my companion to
take my advice, though I knew from his excited manner that there was not much
hope of sleep for him. Indeed, his mood was infectious, for I lay tossing half
the night myself, brooding over this strange problem, and inventing a hundred
theories, each of which was more impossible than the last. Why had Holmes remained
at Woking? Why had he asked Miss Harrison to remain in the sickroom all day? Why
had he been so careful not to inform the people at Briarbrae that he intended
to remain near them? I cudgeled my brains until I fell asleep in the endeavor
to find some explanation which would cover all these facts.
It was seven o'clock when I awoke, and I set off
at once for Phelps's room, to find him haggard and spent after a sleepless night.
His first question was whether Holmes had arrived yet. "He'll be here when he
promised," said I, "and not an instant sooner or later."
And my words were true, for shortly after eight
a hansom dashed up to the door and our friend got out of it. Standing in the window
we saw that his left hand was swathed in a bandage and that his face was very
grim and pale. He entered the house, but it was some little time before he came
upstairs. "He looks like a beaten man," cried Phelps.
I was forced to confess that he was right. "After
all," said I, "the clue of the matter lies probably here in town."
Phelps gave a groan. "I don't know how it is,"
said he, "but I had hoped for so much from his return. But surely his hand was
not tied up like that yesterday. What can be the matter?"
"You are not wounded, Holmes?" I asked, as my friend
entered the room.
"Tut, it is only a scratch through my own clumsiness,"
he answered, nodding his good-mornings to us. "This case of yours, Mr. Phelps,
is certainly one of the darkest which I have ever investigated."
"I feared that you would find it beyond you."
"It has been a most remarkable experience."
"That bandage tells of adventures," said I. "Won't
you tell us what has happened?"
"After breakfast, my dear Watson. Remember that
I have breathed thirty miles of Surrey air this morning. I suppose that there
has been no answer from my cabman advertisement? Well, well, we cannot expect
to score every time."
The table was all laid, and just as I was about
to ring Mrs. Hudson entered with the tea and coffee. A few minutes later she brought
in three covers, and we all drew up to the table, Holmes ravenous, I curious,
and Phelps in the gloomiest state of depression.
"Mrs. Hudson has risen to the occasion," said Holmes,
uncovering a dish of curried chicken. "Her cuisine is a little limited, but she
has as good an idea of breakfast as a Scotch-woman. What have you here, Watson?"
"Ham and eggs," I answered.
"Good! What are you going to take, Mr. Phelps—curried
fowl or eggs, or will you help yourself?"
"Thank you. I can eat nothing," said Phelps.
"Oh, come! Try the dish before you."
"Thank you, I would really rather not."
"Well, then," said Holmes, with a mischievous twinkle,
"I suppose that you have no objection to helping me?"
Phelps raised the cover, and as he did so he uttered
a scream, and sat there staring with a face as white as the plate upon which he
looked. Across the center of it was lying a little cylinder of blue-gray paper.
He caught it up, devoured it with his eyes, and then danced madly about the room,
passing it to his bosom and shrieking out in his delight. Then he fell back into
an armchair so limp and exhausted with his own emotions that we had to pour brandy
down his throat to keep him from fainting.
"There! there!" said Holmes, soothing, patting
him upon the shoulder. "It was too bad to spring it on you like this, but Watson
here will tell you that I never can resist a touch of the dramatic."
Phelps seized his hand and kissed it. "God bless
you!" he cried.
"You have saved my honor."
"Well, my own was at stake, you know," said Holmes.
"I assure you it is just as hateful to me to fail in a case as it can be to you
to blunder over a commission."
Phelps thrust away the precious document into the
innermost pocket of his coat. "I have not the heart to interrupt your breakfast
any further, and yet I am dying to know how you got it and where it was."
Sherlock Holmes swallowed a cup of coffee, and
turned his attention to the ham and eggs. Then he rose, lit his pipe, and settled
himself down into his chair. "I'll tell you what I did first, and how I came to
do it afterwards," said he.
"After leaving you at the station I went for a
charming walk through some admirable Surrey scenery to a pretty little village
called Ripley, where I had my tea at an inn, and took the precaution of filling
my flask and of putting a paper of sandwiches in my pocket. There I remained until
evening, when I set off for Woking again, and found myself in the highroad. outside
Briarbrae just after sunset.
"Well, I waited until the road was clear—it
is never a very frequented one at any time, I fancy—and then I clambered
over the fence into the grounds."
"Surely the gate was open!" ejaculated Phelps.
"Yes, but I have a peculiar taste in these matters.
I chose the place where the three fir-trees stand, and behind their screen I got
over without the least chance of any one in the house being able to see me. I
crouched down among the bushes on the other side, and crawled from one to the
other—witness the disreputable state of my trouser knees—until I had
reached the clump of rhododendrons just opposite to your bedroom window. There
I squatted down and awaited developments.
"The blind was not down in your room, and I could
see Miss Harrison sitting there reading by the table. It was quarter-past ten
when she closed her book, fastened the shutters, and retired. "I heard her shut
the door, and felt quite sure that she had turned the key in the lock."
"The key!" ejaculated Phelps.
"Yes; I had given Miss Harrison instructions to
lock the door on the outside and take the key with her when she went to bed. She
carried out every one of my injunctions to the letter, and certainly without her
cooperation you would not have that paper in you coat-pocket. She departed then
and the lights went out, and I was left squatting in the rhododendron-bush.
"The night was fine, but still it was a very weary
vigil. Of course it has the sort of excitement about it that the sportsman feels
when he lies beside the watercourse and waits for the big game. It was very long,
though—almost as long, Watson, as when you and I waited in that deadly room
when we looked into the little problem of the Speckled Band. There was a church-clock
down at Woking which struck the quarters, and I thought more than once that it
had stopped. At last however about two in the morning, I suddenly heard the gentle
sound of a bolt being pushed back and the creaking of a key. A moment later the
servant's door was opened, and Mr. Joseph Harrison stepped out into the moonlight."
"Joseph!" ejaculated Phelps.
"He was bareheaded, but he had a black coat thrown
over his shoulder so that he could conceal his face in an instant if there were
any alarm. He walked on tiptoe under the shadow of the wall, and when he reached
the window he worked a long-bladed knife through the sash and pushed back the
catch. Then he flung open the window, and putting his knife through the crack
in the shutters, he thrust the bar up and swung them open.
"From where I lay I had a perfect view of the inside
of the room and of every one of his movements. He lit the two candles which stood
upon the mantelpiece, and then he proceeded to turn back the corner of the carpet
in the neighborhood of the door. Presently he stopped and picked out a square
piece of board, such as is usually left to enable plumbers to get at the joints
of the gas-pipes. This one covered, as a matter of fact, the T joint which gives
off the pipe which supplies the kitchen underneath. Out of this hiding-place he
drew that little cylinder of paper, pushed down the board, rearranged the carpet,
blew out the candles, and walked straight into my arms as I stood waiting for
him outside the window.
"Well, he has rather more viciousness than I gave
him credit for, has Master Joseph. He flew at me with his knife, and I had to
grasp him twice, and got a cut over the knuckles, before I had the upper hand
of him. He looked murder out of the only eye he could see with when we had finished,
but he listened to reason and gave up the papers. Having got them I let my man
go, but I wired full particulars to Forbes this morning. If he is quick enough
to catch is bird, well and good. But if, as I shrewdly suspect, he finds the nest
empty before he gets there, why, all the better for the government. I fancy that
Lord Holdhurst for one, and Mr. Percy Phelps for another, would very much rather
that the affair never got as far as a police-court."
"My God!" gasped our client. "Do you tell me that
during these long ten weeks of agony the stolen papers were within the very room
with me all the time?"
"So it was."
"And Joseph! Joseph a villain and a thief!"
"Hum! I am afraid Joseph's character is a rather
deeper and more dangerous one than one might judge from his appearance. From what
I have heard from him this morning, I gather that he has lost heavily in dabbling
with stocks, and that he is ready to do anything on earth to better his fortunes.
Being an absolutely selfish man, when a chance presented itself he did not allow
either his sister's happiness or your reputation to hold his hand."
Percy Phelps sank back in his chair. "My head whirls,"
said he. "Your words have dazed me."
"The principal difficulty in your case," remarked
Holmes, in his didactic fashion, "lay in the fact of there being too much evidence.
What was vital was overlaid and hidden by what was irrelevant. Of all the facts
which were presented to us we had to pick just those which we deemed to be essential,
and then piece them together in their order, so as to reconstruct this very remarkable
chain of events. I had already begun to suspect Joseph, from the fact that you
had intended to travel home with him that night, and that therefore it was a likely
enough thing that he should call for you, knowing the Foreign Office well, upon
his way. When I heard that some one had been so anxious to get into the bedroom,
in which no one but Joseph could have concealed anything—you told us in your
narrative how you had turned Joseph out when you arrived with the doctor—my
suspicions all changed to certainties, especially as the attempt was made on the
first night upon which the nurse was absent, showing that the intruder was well
acquainted with the ways of the house."
"How blind I have been!"
"The facts of the case, as far as I have worked
them out, are these: this Joseph Harrison entered the office through the Charles
Street door, and knowing his way he walked straight into your room the instant
after you left it. Finding no one there he promptly rang the bell, and at the
instant that he did so his eyes caught the paper upon the table. A glance showed
him that chance had put in his way a State document of immense value, and in an
instant he had thrust it into his pocket and was gone. A few minutes elapsed,
as you remember, before the sleepy commissionnaire drew your attention to the
bell, and those were just enough to give the thief time to make his escape.
"He made his way to Woking by the first train,
and having examined his booty and assured himself that it really was of immense
value, he had concealed it in what he thought was a very safe place, with the
intention of taking it out again in a day or two, and carrying it to the French
embassy, or wherever he thought that a long price was to be had. Then came your
sudden return. He, without a moment's warning, was bundled out of his room, and
from that time onward there were always at least two of you there to prevent him
from regaining his treasure. The situation to him must have been a maddening one.
But at last he thought he saw his chance. He tried to steal in, but was baffled
by your wakefulness. You remember that you did not take your usual draught that
night."
"I remember."
"I fancy that he had taken steps to make that draught
efficacious, and that he quite relied upon your being unconscious. Of course,
I understood that he would repeat the attempt whenever it could be done with safety.
Your leaving the room gave him the chance he wanted. I kept Miss Harrison in it
all day so that he might not anticipate us. Then, having given him the idea that
the coast was clear, I kept guard as I have described. I already knew that the
papers were probably in the room, but I had no desire to rip up all the planking
and skirting in search of them. I let him take them, therefore, from the hiding-place,
and so saved myself an infinity of trouble. Is there any other point which I can
make clear?"
"Why did he try the window on the first occasion,"
I asked, "when he might have entered by the door?"
"In reaching the door he would have to pass seven
bedrooms. On the other hand, he could get out on to the lawn with ease. Anything
else?"
"You do not think," asked Phelps, "that he had
any murderous intention? The knife was only meant as a tool."
"It may be so," answered Holmes, shrugging his
shoulders. "I can only say for certain that Mr. Joseph Harrison is a gentleman
to whose mercy I should be extremely unwilling to trust."
The Final Problem
It is with a heavy heart that I take up my pen to
write these the last words in which I shall ever record the singular gifts by
which my friend Mr. Sherlock Holmes was distinguished. In an incoherent and, as
I deeply feel, an entirely inadequate fashion, I have endeavored to give some
account of my strange experiences in his company from the chance which first brought
us together at the period of the "Study in Scarlet," up to the time of his interference
in the matter of the "Naval Treaty"—and interference which had the unquestionable
effect of preventing a serious international complication.
It was my intention to have stopped there, and
to have said nothing of that event which has created a void in my life which the
lapse of two years has done little to fill. My hand has been forced, however,
by the recent letters in which Colonel James Moriarty defends the memory of his
brother, and I have no choice but to lay the facts before the public exactly as
they occurred. I alone know the absolute truth of the matter, and I am satisfied
that the time has come when on good purpose is to be served by its suppression.
As far as I know, there have been only three accounts
in the public press: that in the Journal de Genève on May 6th, 1891, the
Reuters dispatch in the English papers on May 7th, and finally the recent letter
to which I have alluded. Of these the first and second were extremely condensed,
while the last is, as I shall now show, an absolute perversion of the facts.
It lies with me to tell for the first time what
really took place between Professor Moriarty and Mr. Sherlock Holmes. It may be
remembered that after my marriage, and my subsequent start in private practice,
the very intimate relations which had existed between Holmes and myself became
to some extent modified. He still came to me from time to time when he desired
a companion in his investigation, but these occasions grew more and more seldom,
until I find that in the year 1890 there were only three cases of which I retain
any record. During the winter of that year and the early spring of 1891, I saw
in the papers that he had been engaged by the French government upon a matter
of supreme importance, and I received two notes from Holmes, dated from Narbonne
and from Nimes, from which I gathered that his stay in France was likely to be
a long one.
It was with some surprise, therefore, that I saw
him walk into my consulting-room upon the evening of April 24th. It struck me
that he was looking even paler and thinner than usual. "Yes, I have been using
myself up rather too freely," he remarked, in answer to my look rather than to
my words; "I have been a little pressed of late. Have you any objection to my
closing your shutters?"
The only light in the room came from the lamp upon
the table at which I had been reading. Holmes edged his way round the wall and
flinging the shutters together, he bolted them securely.
"You are afraid of something?" I asked.
"Well, I am."
"Of what?"
"Of air-guns."
"My dear Holmes, what do you mean?"
"I think that you know me well enough, Watson,
to understand that I am by no means a nervous man. At the same time, it is stupidity
rather than courage to refuse to recognize danger when it is close upon you. Might
I trouble you for a match?" He drew in the smoke of his cigarette as if the soothing
influence was grateful to him.
"I must apologize for calling so late," said he,
"and I must further beg you to be so unconventional as to allow me to leave your
house presently by scrambling over your back garden wall."
"But what does it all mean?" I asked.
He held out his hand, and I saw in the light of
the lamp that two of his knuckles were burst and bleeding. "It is not an airy
nothing, you see," said he, smiling. "On the contrary, it is solid enough for
a man to break his hand over. Is Mrs. Watson in?"
"She is away upon a visit."
"Indeed! You are alone?"
"Quite."
"Then it makes it the easier for me to propose
that you should come away with me for a week to the Continent."
"Where?"
"Oh, anywhere. It's all the same to me."
There was something very strange in all this. It
was not Holmes's nature to take an aimless holiday, and something about his pale,
worn face told me that his nerves were at their highest tension.
He saw the question in my eyes, and, putting his
fingertips together and his elbows upon his knees, he explained the situation.
"You have probably never heard of Professor Moriarty?" said he.
"Never."
"Aye, there's the genius and the wonder of the
thing!" he cried. "The man pervades London, and no one has heard of him. That's
what puts him on a pinnacle in the records of crime. I tell you, Watson, in all
seriousness, that if I could beat that man, if I could free society of him, I
should feel that my own career had reached its summit, and I should be prepared
to turn to some more placid line in life. Between ourselves, the recent cases
in which I have been of assistance to the royal family of Scandinavia, and to
the French republic, have left me in such a position that I could continue to
live in the quiet fashion which is most congenial to me, and to concentrate my
attention upon my chemical researches. But I could not rest, Watson, I could not
sit quiet in my chair, if I thought that such a man as Professor Moriarty were
walking the streets of London unchallenged."
"What has he done, then?"
"His career has been an extraordinary one. He is
a man of good birth and excellent education, endowed by nature with a phenomenal
mathematical faculty. At the age of twenty-one he wrote a treatise upon the Binomial
Theorem, which has had a European vogue. On the strength of it he won the Mathematical
Chair at one of our smaller universities, and had, to all appearance, a most brilliant
career before him. But the man had hereditary tendencies of the most diabolical
kind. A criminal strain ran in his blood, which, instead of being modified, was
increased and rendered infinitely more dangerous by his extraordinary mental powers.
Dark rumors gathered round him in the university town, and eventually he was compelled
to resign his chair and to come down to London, where he set up as an army coach.
So much is known to the world, but what I am telling you now is what I have myself
discovered.
"As you are aware, Watson, there is no one who
knows the higher criminal world of London so well as I do. For years past I have
continually been conscious of some power behind the malefactor, some deep organizing
power which forever stands in the way of the law, and throws its shield over the
wrongdoer. Again and again in cases of the most varying sorts—forgery cases,
robberies, murders—I have felt the presence of this force, and I have deduced
its action in many of those undiscovered crimes in which I have not been personally
consulted. For years I have endeavored to break through the veil which shrouded
it, and at last the time came when I seized my thread and followed it, until it
led me, after a thousand cunning windings, to ex-Professor Moriarty of mathematical
celebrity.
"He is the Napoleon of crime, Watson. He is
the organizer of half that is evil and of nearly all that is undetected in this
great city. He is a genius, a philosopher, an abstract thinker. He has a brain
of the first order. He sits motionless, like a spider in the center of its web,
but that web has a thousand radiations, and he knows well every quiver of each
of them. He does little himself. He only plans. But his agents are numerous and
splendidly organized. Is there a crime to be done, a paper to be abstracted, we
will say, a house to be rifled, a man to be removed—the word is passed to
the Professor, the matter is organized and carried out. The agent may be caught.
In that case money is found for his bail or his defense But the central power
which uses the agent is never caught—never so much as suspected. This was
the organization which I deduced, Watson, and which I devoted my whole energy
to exposing and breaking up.
"But the Professor was fenced round with safeguards
so cunningly devised that, do what I would, it seemed impossible to get evidence
which would convict in a court of law. You know my powers, my dear Watson, and
yet at the end of three months I was forced to confess that I had at last met
an antagonist who was my intellectual equal. My horror at his crimes was lost
in my admiration at his skill. But at last he made a trip—only a little,
little trip—but it was more than he could afford when I was so close upon
him. I had my chance, and, starting from that point, I have woven my net round
him until now it is all ready to close. In three days—that is to say, on
Monday next—matters will be ripe, and the Professor, with all the principal
members of his gang, will be in the hands of the police. Then will come the greatest
criminal trial of the century, the clearing up of over forty mysteries, and the
rope for all of them; but if we move at all prematurely, you understand, they
may slip out of our hands even at the last moment.
"Now, if I could have done this without the knowledge
of Professor Moriarty, all would have been well. But he was too wily for that.
He saw every step which I took to draw my toils round him. Again and again he
strove to break away, but I as often headed him off. I tell you, my friend, that
if a detailed account of that silent contest could be written, it would take its
place as the most brilliant bit of thrust-and-parry work in the history of detection.
Never have I risen to such a height, and never have I been so hard pressed by
an opponent. He cut deep, and yet I just undercut him. This morning the last steps
were taken, and three days only were wanted to complete the business. I was sitting
in my room thinking the matter over, when the door opened and Professor Moriarty
stood before me.
"My nerves are fairly proof, Watson, but I must
confess to a start when I saw the very man who had been so much in my thoughts
standing there on my threshold. His appearance was quite familiar to me. He is
extremely tall and thin, his forehead domes out in a white curve, and his two
eyes are deeply sunken in this head. He is clean-shaven, pale, and ascetic-looking,
retaining something of the professor in his features. His shoulders are rounded
from much study, and his face protrudes forward, and is forever slowly oscillating
from side to side in a curiously reptilian fashion. He peered at me with great
curiosity in his puckered eyes.
"'You have less frontal development that I should
have expected,' said he, at last. 'It is a dangerous habit to finger loaded firearms
in the pocket of one's dressing-gown.'
"The fact is that upon his entrance I had instantly
recognized the extreme personal danger in which I lay. The only conceivable escape
for him lay in silencing my tongue. In an instant I had slipped the revolved from
the drawer into my pocket, and was covering him through the cloth. At his remark
I drew the weapon out and laid it cocked upon the table. He still smiled and blinked,
but there was something about his eyes which made me feel very glad that I had
it there.
"'You evidently don't know me,' said he.
"'On the contrary,' I answered, 'I think it is
fairly evident that I do. Pray take a chair. I can spare you five minutes if you
have anything to say.'
"'All that I have to say has already crossed your
mind,' said he.
"'Then possibly my answer has crossed yours,' I
replied.
"'You stand fast?'
"'Absolutely.'
"He clapped his hand into his pocket, and I raised
the pistol from the table. But he merely drew out a memorandum-book in which he
had scribbled some dates.
"'You crossed my patch on the 4th of January,'
said he. 'On the 23d you incommoded me; by the middle of February I was seriously
inconvenienced by you; at the end of March I was absolutely hampered in my plans;
and now, at the close of April, I find myself placed in such a position through
your continual persecution that I am in positive danger of losing my liberty.
The situation is becoming an impossible one.'
"'Have you any suggestion to make?' I asked.
"'You must drop it, Mr. Holmes,' said he, swaying
his face about. 'You really must, you know.'
"'After Monday,' said I.
"'Tut, tut,' said he. 'I am quite sure that a man
of your intelligence will see that there can be but one outcome to this affair.
It is necessary that you should withdraw. You have worked things in such a fashion
that we have only one resource left. It has been an intellectual treat to me to
see the way in which you have grappled with this affair, and I say, unaffectedly,
that it would be a grief to me to be forced to take any extreme measure. You smile,
sir, abut I assure you that it really would.'
"'Danger is part of my trade,' I remarked.
"'That is not danger,' said he. 'It is inevitable
destruction. You stand in the way not merely of an individual, but of a mighty
organization, the full extent of which you, with all your cleverness, have been
unable to realize. You must stand clear, Mr. Holmes, or be trodden under foot.'
"'I am afraid,' said I, rising, 'that in the pleasure
of this conversation I am neglecting business of importance which awaits me elsewhere.'
"He rose also and looked at me in silence, shaking
his head sadly.
"'Well, well,' said he, at last. 'It seems a pity,
but I have done what I could. I know every move of your game. You can do nothing
before Monday. It has been a duel between you and me, Mr. Holmes. You hope to
place me in the dock. I tell you that I will never stand in the dock. You hope
to beat me. I tell you that you will never beat me. If you are clever enough to
bring destruction upon me, rest assured that I shall do as much to you.'
"'You have paid me several compliments, Mr. Moriarty,'
said I. 'Let me pay you one in return when I say that if I were assured of the
former eventuality I would, in the interests of the public, cheerfully accept
the latter.'
"'I can promise you the one, but not the other,'
he snarled, and so turned his rounded back upon me, and went peering and blinking
out of the room.
"That was my singular interview with Professor
Moriarty. I confess that it left an unpleasant effect upon my mind. His soft,
precise fashion of speech leaves a conviction of sincerity which a mere bully
could not produce. Of course, you will say: 'Why not take police precautions against
him?' the reason is that I am well convinced that it is from his agents the blow
will fall. I have the best proofs that it would be so."
"You have already been assaulted?"
"My dear Watson, Professor Moriarty is not a man
who lets the grass grow under his feet. I went out about midday to transact some
business in Oxford Street. As I passed the corner which leads from Bentinck Street
on to the Welbeck Street crossing a two-horse van furiously driven whizzed round
and was on me like a flash. I sprang for the footpath and saved myself by the
fraction of a second. The van dashed round by Marylebone Lane and was gone in
an instant. I kept to the pavement after that, Watson, but as I walked down Vere
Street a brick came down from the roof of one of the houses, and was shattered
to fragments at my feet. I called the police and had the place examined. There
were slates and bricks piled up on the roof preparatory to some repairs, and they
would have me believe that the wind had toppled over one of these. Of course I
knew better, but I could prove nothing. I took a cab after that and reached my
brother's rooms in Pall Mall, where I spent the day. Now I have come round to
you, and on my way I was attacked by a rough with a bludgeon. I knocked him down,
and the police have him in custody; but I can tell you with the most absolute
confidence that no possible connection will ever be traced between the gentleman
upon whose front teeth I have barked my knuckles and the retiring mathematical
coach, who is, I dare say, working out problems upon a blackboard ten miles away.
You will not wonder, Watson, that my first act on entering your rooms was to close
your shutters, and that I have been compelled to ask your permission to leave
the house by some less conspicuous exit than the front door."
I had often admired my friend's courage, but never
more than now, as he sat quietly checking off a series of incidents which must
have combined to make up a day of horror.
"You will spend the night here?" I said.
"No, my friend, you might find me a dangerous guest.
I have my plans laid, and all will be well. Matters have gone so far now that
they can move without my help as far as the arrest goes, though my presence is
necessary for a conviction. It is obvious, therefore, that I cannot do better
than get away for the few days which remain before the police are at liberty to
act. It would be a great pleasure to me, therefore, if you could come on to the
Continent with me."
"The practice is quiet," said I, "and I have an
accommodating neighbor. I should be glad to come."
"And to start tomorrow morning?"
"If necessary."
"Oh yes, it is most necessary. Then these are your
instructions, and I beg, my dear Watson, that you will obey them to the letter,
for you are now playing a double-handed game with me against the cleverest rogue
and the most powerful syndicate of criminals in Europe. Now listen! You will dispatch
whatever luggage you intend to take by a trusty messenger unaddressed to Victoria
tonight In the morning you will send for a hansom, desiring your man to take neither
the first nor the second which may present itself. Into this hansom you will jump,
and you will drive to the Strand end of the Lowther Arcade, handling the address
to the cabman upon a slip of paper, with a request that he will not throw it away.
Have your fare ready, and the instant that your cab stops, dash through the Arcade,
timing yourself to reach the other side at a quarter-past nine. You will find
a small brougham waiting close to the curb, driven by a fellow with a heavy black
cloak tipped at the collar with red. Into this you will step, and you will reach
Victoria in time for the Continental express."
"Where shall I meet you?"
"At the station. The second first-class carriage
from the front will be reserved for us."
"The carriage is our rendezvous, then?"
"Yes."
It was in vain that I asked Holmes to remain for
the evening. It was evident to me that he though he might bring trouble to the
roof he was under, and that that was the motive which impelled him to go. With
a few hurried words as to our plans for the morrow he rose and came out with me
into the garden, clambering over the wall which leads into Mortimer Street, and
immediately whistling for a hansom, in which I heard him drive away.
In the morning I obeyed Holmes's injunctions to
the letter. A hansom was procured with such precaution as would prevent its being
one which was placed ready for us, and I drove immediately after breakfast to
the Lowther Arcade, through which I hurried at the top of my speed. A brougham
was waiting with a very massive driver wrapped in a dark cloak, who, the instant
that I had stepped in, whipped up the horse and rattled off to Victoria Station.
On my alighting there he turned the carriage, and dashed away again without so
much as a look in my direction.
So far all had gone admirably. My luggage was waiting
for me, and I had no difficulty in finding the carriage which Holmes had indicated,
the less so as it was the only one in the train which was marked "Engaged." My
only source of anxiety now was the nonappearance of Holmes. The station clock
marked only seven minutes from the time when we were due to start. In vain I searched
among the groups of travelers and leave-takers for the little figure of my friend.
There was no sign of him. I spent a few minutes in assisting a venerable Italian
priest, who was endeavoring to make a porter understand, in his broken English,
that his luggage was to be booked through to Paris.
Then, having taken another look round, I returned
to my carriage, where I found that the porter, in spite of the ticket, had given
me my decrepit Italian friend as a traveling companion. It was useless for me
to explain to him that his presence was an intrusion, for my Italian was even
more limited than his English, so I shrugged my shoulders resignedly, and continued
to look out anxiously for my friend. A chill of fear had come over me, as I thought
that his absence might mean that some blow had fallen during the night. Already
the doors had all been shut and the whistle blown, when—
"My dear Watson," said a voice, "you have not even
condescended to say good-morning."
I turned in uncontrollable astonishment. The aged
ecclesiastic had turned his face towards me. For an instant the wrinkles were
smoothed away, the nose drew away from the chin, the lower lip ceased to protrude
and the mouth to mumble, the dull eyes regained their fire, the drooping figure
expanded. The next the whole frame collapsed again, and Holmes had gone as quickly
as he had come.
"Good heavens!" I cried; "how you startled me!"
"Every precaution is still necessary," he whispered.
"I have reason to think that they are hot upon
our trail. Ah, there is Moriarty himself."
The train had already begun to move as Holmes spoke.
Glancing back, I saw a tall man pushing his way furiously through the crowd, and
waving his hand as if he desired to have the train stopped. It was too late, however,
for we were rapidly gathering momentum, and an instant later had shot clear of
the station.
"With all our precautions, you see that we have
cut it rather fine," said Holmes, laughing. He rose, and throwing off the black
cassock and hat which had formed his disguise, he packed them away in a handbag.
"Have you seen the morning paper, Watson?"
"No."
"You haven't' seen about Baker Street, then?"
"Baker Street?"
"They set fire to our rooms last night. No great
harm was done."
"Good heavens, Holmes! this is intolerable."
"They must have lost my track completely after
their bludgeon-man was arrested. Otherwise they could not have imagined that I
had returned to my rooms. They have evidently taken the precaution of watching
you, however, and that is what has brought Moriarty to Victoria. You could not
have made any slip in coming?"
"I did exactly what you advised."
"Did you find your brougham?"
"Yes, it was waiting."
"Did you recognize your coachman?"
"No."
"It was my brother Mycroft. It is an advantage
to get about in such a case without taking a mercenary into your confidence. But
we must plan what we are to do about Moriarty now."
"As this is an express, and as the boat runs in
connection with it, I should think we have shaken him off very effectively."
"My dear Watson, you evidently did not realize
my meaning when I said that this man may be taken as being quite on the same intellectual
plane as myself. You do not imagine that if I were the pursuer I should allow
myself to be baffled by so slight an obstacle. Why, then, should you think so
meanly of him?"
"What will he do?"
"What I should do?"
"What would you do, then?"
"Engage a special."
"But it must be late."
"By no means. This train stops at Canterbury; and
there is always at least a quarter of an hour's delay at the boat. He will catch
us there."
"One would think that we were the criminals. Let
us have him arrested on his arrival."
"It would be to ruin the work of three months.
We should get the big fish, but the smaller would dart right and left out of the
net. On Monday we should have them all. No, an arrest is inadmissible."
"What then?"
"We shall get out at Canterbury."
"And then?"
"Well, then we must make a cross-country journey
to Newhaven, and so over to Dieppe. Moriarty will again do what I should do. He
will get on to Paris, mark down our luggage, and wait for two days at the depot.
In the meantime we shall treat ourselves to a couple of carpetbags, encourage
the manufactures of the countries through which we travel, and make our way at
our leisure into Switzerland, via Luxembourg and Basle."
At Canterbury, therefore, we alighted, only to
find that we should have to wait an hour before we could get a train to Newhaven.
I was still looking rather ruefully after the rapidly disappearing luggage-van
which contained my wardrobe, when Holmes pulled my sleeve and pointed up the line.
"Already, you see," said he.
Far away, from among the Kentish woods there rose
a thin spray of smoke. A minute later a carriage and engine could be seen flying
along the open curve which leads to the station. We had hardly time to take our
place behind a pile of luggage when it passed with a rattle and a roar, beating
a blast of hot air into our faces.
"There he goes," said Holmes, as we watched the
carriage swing and rock over the point. "There are limits, you see, to our friend's
intelligence. It would have been a coup-de-maître had he deduced what I would
deduce and acted accordingly."
"And what would he have done had he overtaken us?"
"There cannot be the least doubt that he would
have made a murderous attack upon me. It is, however, a game at which two may
play. The question, now is whether we should take a premature lunch here, or run
our chance of starving before we reach the buffet at Newhaven."
We made our way to Brussels that night and spent
two days there, moving on upon the third day as far as Strasburg.
On the Monday morning Holmes had telegraphed to
the London police, and in the evening we found a reply waiting for us at our hotel.
Holmes tore it open, and then with a bitter curse hurled it into the grate. "I
might have known it!" he groaned.
"He has escaped!"
"Moriarty?"
"They have secured the whole gang with the exception
of him. He has given them the slip. Of course, when I had left the country there
was no one to cope with him. But I did think that I had put the game in their
hands. I think that you had better return to England, Watson."
"Why?"
"Because you will find me a dangerous companion
now. This man's occupation is gone. He is lost if he returns to London. If I read
his character right he will devote his whole energies to revenging himself upon
me. He said as much in our short interview, and I fancy that he meant it. I should
certainly recommend you to return to your practice."
It was hardly an appeal to be successful with one
who was an old campaigner as well as an old friend. We sat in the Strasburg salle-à-manger
arguing the question for half an hour, but the same night we had resumed our journey
and were well on our way to Geneva. For a charming week we wandered up the Valley
of the Rhone, and then, branching off at Leuk, we made our way over the Gemmi
Pass, still deep in snow, and so, by way of Interlaken, to Meiringen.
It was a lovely trip, the dainty green of the spring
below, the virgin white of the winter above; but it was clear to me that never
for one instant did Holmes forget the shadow which lay across him. In the homely
Alpine villages or in the lonely mountain passes, I could tell by his quick glancing
eyes and his sharp scrutiny of every face that passed us, that he was well convinced
that, walk where we would, we could not walk ourselves clear of the danger which
was dogging our footsteps.
Once, I remember, as we passed over the Gemmi,
and walked along the border of the melancholy Daubensee, a large rock which had
been dislodged from the ridge upon our right clattered down and roared into the
lake behind us. In an instant Holmes had raced up on to the ridge, and, standing
upon a lofty pinnacle, craned his neck in every direction. It was in vain that
our guide assured him that a fall of stones was a common chance in the springtime
at that spot. He said nothing, but he smiled at me with the air of a man who sees
the fulfillment of that which he had expected.
And yet for all his watchfulness he was never depressed.
On the contrary, I can never recollect having seen him in such exuberant spirits.
Again and again he recurred to the fact that if he could be assured that society
was freed from Professor Moriarty he would cheerfully bring his own career to
a conclusion. "I think that I may go so far as to say, Watson, that I have not
lived wholly in vain," he remarked. "If my record were closed tonight I could
still survey it with equanimity. The air of London is the sweeter for my presence.
In over a thousand cases I am not aware that I have ever used my powers upon the
wrong side. Of late I have been tempted to look into the problems furnished by
nature rather than those more superficial ones for which our artificial state
of society is responsible. Your memoirs will draw to an end, Watson, upon the
day that I crown my career by the capture or extinction of the most dangerous
and capable criminal in Europe."
I shall be brief, and yet exact, in the little
which remains for me to tell. It is not a subject on which I would willingly dwell,
and yet I am conscious that a duty devolves upon me to omit no detail.
It was on the 3d of May that we reached the little
village of Meiringen, where we put up at the Englischer Hof, then kept by Peter
Steiler the elder. Our landlord was an intelligent man, and spoke excellent English,
having served for three years as waiter at the Grosvenor Hotel in London. At his
advice, on the afternoon of the 4th we set off together, with the intention of
crossing the hills and spending the night at the hamlet of Rosenlaui. We had strict
injunctions, however, on no account to pass the falls of Reichenbach, which are
about halfway up the hill, without making a small detour to see them. It is indeed,
a fearful place. The torrent, swollen by the melting snow, plunges into a tremendous
abyss, from which the spray rolls up like the smoke from a burning house. The
shaft into which the river hurls itself is a immense chasm, lined by glistening
coal-black rock, and narrowing into a creaming, boiling pit of incalculable depth,
which brims over and shoots the stream onward over its jagged lip. The long sweep
of green water roaring forever down, and the thick flickering curtain of spray
hissing forever upward, turn a man giddy with their constant whirl and clamor.
We stood near the edge peering down at the gleam
of the breaking water far below us against the black rocks, and listening to the
half-human shout which came booming up with the spray out of the abyss. The path
has been cut halfway round the fall to afford a complete view, but it ends abruptly,
and the traveler has to return as he came. We had turned to do so, when we saw
a Swiss lad come running along it with a letter in his hand. It bore the mark
of the hotel which we had just left, and was addressed to me by the landlord.
It appeared that within a very few minutes of our leaving, an English lady had
arrived who was in the last stage of consumption. She had wintered at Davos Platz,
and was journeying now to join her friends at Lucerne, when a sudden hemorrhage
had overtaken her. It was thought that she could hardly live a few hours, but
it would be a great consolation to her to see an English doctor, and, if I would
only return, etc. The good Steiler assured me in a postscript that he would himself
look upon my compliance as a very great favor, since the lady absolutely refused
to see a Swiss physician, and he could not but feel that he was incurring a great
responsibility.
The appeal was one which could not be ignored.
It was impossible to refuse the request of a fellow-countrywoman dying in a strange
land. Yet I had my scruples about leaving Holmes. It was finally agreed, however,
that he should retain the young Swiss messenger with him as guide and companion
while I returned to Meiringen. My friend would stay some little time at the fall,
he said, and would then walk slowly over the hill to Rosenlaui, where I was to
rejoin him in the evening.
As I turned away I saw Holmes, with his back against
a rock and his arms folded, gazing down at the rush of the waters. It was the
last that I was ever destined to see of him in this world. When I was near the
bottom of the descent I looked back. It was impossible, from that position, to
see the fall, but I could see the curving path which winds over the shoulder of
the hill and leads to it. Along this a man was, I remember, walking very rapidly.
I could see his black figure clearly outlined against the green behind him. I
noted him, and the energy with which he walked but he passed from my mind again
as I hurried on upon my errand.
It may have been a little over an hour before I
reached Meiringen. Old Steiler was standing at the porch of his hotel. "Well,"
said I, as I came hurrying up, "I trust that she is no worse?"
A look of surprise passed over his face, and at
the first quiver of his eyebrows my heart turned to lead in my breast. "You did
not write this?" I said, pulling the letter from my pocket. "There is no sick
Englishwoman in the hotel?"
"Certainly not!" he cried. "But it has the hotel
mark upon it! Ha, it must have been written by that tall Englishman who came in
after you had gone. He said—"
But I waited for none of the landlord's explanations.
In a tingle of fear I was already running down the village street, and making
for the path which I had so lately descended. It had taken me an hour to come
down. For all my efforts two more had passed before I found myself at the fall
of Reichenbach once more. There was Holmes's Alpine-stock still leaning against
the rock by which I had left him. But there was no sign of him, and it was in
vain that I shouted. My only answer was my own voice reverberating in a rolling
echo from the cliffs around me.
It was the sight of that Alpine-stock which turned
me cold and sick. He had not gone to Rosenlaui, then. He had remained on that
three-foot path, with sheer wall on one side and sheer drop on the other, until
his enemy had overtaken him. The young Swiss had gone too. He had probably been
in the pay of Moriarty, and had left the two men together.
And then what had happened? Who was to tell us
what had happened then? I stood for a minute or two to collect myself, for I was
dazed with the horror of the thing. Then I began to think of Holmes's own methods
and to try to practice them in reading this tragedy. It was, alas, only too easy
to do. During our conversation we had not gone to the end of the path, and the
Alpine-stock marked the place where we had stood. The blackish soil is kept forever
soft by the incessant drift of spray, and a bird would leave its tread upon it.
Two lines of footmarks were clearly marked along the farther end of the path,
both leading away from me. There were none returning.
A few yards from the end the soil was all plowed
up into a patch of mud, and the branches and ferns which fringed the chasm were
torn and bedraggled. I lay upon my face and peered over with the spray spouting
up all around me. It had darkened since I left, and now I could only see here
and there the glistening of moisture upon the black walls, and far away down at
the end of the shaft the gleam of the broken water. I shouted; but only the same
half-human cry of the fall was borne back to my ears.
But it was destined that I should after all have
a last word of greeting from my friend and comrade. I have said that his Alpine-stock
had been left leaning against a rock which jutted on to the path. From the top
of this boulder the gleam of something bright caught my eye, and, raising my hand,
I found that it came from the silver cigarette-case which he used to carry. As
I took it up a small square of paper upon which it had lain fluttered down on
to the ground. Unfolding it, I found that it consisted of three pages torn from
his notebook and addressed to me. It was characteristic of the man that the direction
was a precise, and the writing as firm and clear, as though it had been written
in his study.
"My dear Watson
[it said], I write these few lines through the courtesy
of Mr. Moriarty, who awaits my convenience for the final discussion of those questions
which lie between us. He has been giving me a sketch of the methods by which he
avoided the English police and kept himself informed of our movements. They certainly
confirm the very high opinion which I had formed of his abilities. I am pleased
to think that I shall be able to free society from any further effects of his
presence, though I fear that it is at a cost which will give pain to my friends,
and especially, my dear Watson, to you. I have already explained to you, however,
that my career had in any case reached its crisis, and that no possible conclusion
to it could be more congenial to me than this. Indeed, if I may make a full confession
to you, I was quite convinced that the letter from Meiringen was a hoax, and I
allowed you to depart on that errand under the persuasion that some development
of this sort would follow. Tell Inspector Patterson that the papers which he needs
to convict the gang are in pigeonhole M., done up in a blue envelope and inscribed
"Moriarty." I made every disposition of my property before leaving England, and
handed it to my brother Mycroft. Pray give my greetings to Mrs. Watson, and believe
me to be, my dear fellow,
Very sincerely yours,
Sherlock Holmes
A few words may suffice to tell the little that
remains. An examination by experts leaves little doubt that a personal contest
between the two men ended, as it could hardly fail to end in such a situation,
in their reeling over, locked in each other's arms. Any attempt at recovering
the bodies was absolutely hopeless, and there, deep down in that dreadful caldron
of swirling water and seething foam, will lie for all time the most dangerous
criminal and the foremost champion of the law of their generation. The Swiss youth
was never found again, and there can be no doubt that he was one of the numerous
agents whom Moriarty kept in this employ.
As to the gang, it will be within the memory of
the public how completely the evidence which Holmes had accumulated exposed their
organization, and how heavily the hand of the dead man weighted upon them. Of
their terrible chief few details came out during the proceedings, and if I have
now been compelled to make a clear statement of his career it is due to those
injudicious champions who have endeavored to clear his memory by attacks upon
him whom I shall ever regard as the best and the wisest man whom I have ever known.