Sherlock Holmes complete collection by sir arthur conan doyle

The Return of Sherlock Holmes THE SECOND STAIN

I HAD intended "The Adventure of the Abbey Grange" to be the last ofthose exploits of my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, which I should evercommunicate to the public. This resolution of mine was not due to anylack of material, since I have notes of many hundreds of cases to which Ihave never alluded, nor was it caused by any waning interest on the partof my readers in the singular personality and unique methods of thisremarkable man. The real reason lay in the reluctance which Mr. Holmeshas shown to the continued publication of his experiences. So long as hewas in actual professional practice the records of his successes were ofsome practical value to him, but since he has definitely retired fromLondon and betaken himself to study and bee-farming on the SussexDowns, notoriety has become hateful to him, and he has peremptorilyrequested that his wishes in this matter should be strictly observed. It wasonly upon my representing to him that I had given a promise that "TheAdventure of the Second Stain" should be published when the times wereripe, and pointing out to him that it is only appropriate that this long seriesof episodes should culminate in the most important international casewhich he has ever been called upon to handle, that I at last succeeded inobtaining his consent that a carefully guarded account of the incidentshould at last be laid before the public. If in telling the story I seem to besomewhat vague in certain details, the public will readily understand that there is an excellent reason for my reticence.It was, then, in a year, and even in a decade, that shall be nameless, thatupon one Tuesday morning in autumn we found two visitors of Europeanfame within the walls of our humble room in Baker Street. The one,austere, high-nosed, eagle-eyed, and dominant, was none other than theillustrious Lord Bellinger, twice Premier of Britain. The other, dark, clearcut, and elegant, hardly yet of middle age, and endowed with everybeauty of body and of mind, was the Right Honourable Trelawney Hope,Secretary for European Affairs, and the most rising [651] statesman in thecountry. They sat side by side upon our paper-littered settee, and it waseasy to see from their worn and anxious faces that it was business of themost pressing importance which had brought them. The Premier's thin,blue-veined hands were clasped tightly over the ivory head of hisumbrella, and his gaunt, ascetic face looked gloomily from Holmes to me.The European Secretary pulled nervously at his moustache and fidgetedwith the seals of his watch-chain."When I discovered my loss, Mr. Holmes, which was at eight o'clockthis morning, I at once informed the Prime Minister. It was at hissuggestion that we have both come to you.""Have you informed the police?""No, sir," said the Prime Minister, with the quick, decisive manner forwhich he was famous. "We have not done so, nor is it possible that weshould do so. To inform the police must, in the long run, mean to informthe public. This is what we particularly desire to avoid.""And why, sir?""Because the document in question is of such immense importance thatits publication might very easily-I might almost say probably-lead toEuropean complications of the utmost moment. It is not too much to say that peace or war may hang upon the issue. Unless its recovery can beattended with the utmost secrecy, then it may as well not be recovered atall, for all that is aimed at by those who have taken it is that its contentsshould be generally known.""I understand. Now, Mr. Trelawney Hope, I should be much obliged ifyou would tell me exactly the circumstances under which this documentdisappeared.""That can be done in a very few words, Mr. Holmes. The letter-for itwas a letter from a foreign potentate-was received six days ago. It was ofsuch importance that I have never left it in my safe, but I have taken itacross each evening to my house in Whitehall Terrace, and kept it in mybedroom in a locked despatch-box. It was there last night. Of that I amcertain. I actually opened the box while I was dressing for dinner and sawthe document inside. This morning it was gone. The despatch-box hadstood beside the glass upon my dressing-table all night. I am a lightsleeper, and so is my wife. We are both prepared to swear that no onecould have entered the room during the night. And yet I repeat that thepaper is gone.""What time did you dine?""Half-past seven.""How long was it before you went to bed?""My wife had gone to the theatre. I waited up for her. It was half-pasteleven before we went to our room.""Then for four hours the despatch-box had lain unguarded?""No one is ever permitted to enter that room save the house-maid in themorning, and my valet, or my wife's maid, during the rest of the day.They are both trusty servants who have been with us for some time.Besides, neither of them could possibly have known that there wasanything more valuable than the ordinary departmental papers in mydespatch-box.""Who did know of the existence of that letter?""No one in the house.""Surely your wife knew?""No, sir. I had said nothing to my wife until I missed the paper thismorning."The Premier nodded approvingly."I have long known, sir, how high is your sense of public duty," saidhe. "I am [652] convinced that in the case of a secret of this importance itwould rise superior to the most intimate domestic ties."The European Secretary bowed."You do me no more than justice, sir. Until this morning I have neverbreathed one word to my wife upon this matter.""Could she have guessed?""No, Mr. Holmes, she could not have guessed-nor could anyone haveguessed.""Have you lost any documents before?""No, sir.""Who is there in England who did know of the existence of this letter?""Each member of the Cabinet was informed of it yesterday, but the pledge of secrecy which attends every Cabinet meeting was increased bythe solemn warning which was given by the Prime Minister. Goodheavens, to think that within a few hours I should myself have lost it!"His handsome face was distorted with a spasm of despair, and his handstore at his hair. For a moment we caught a glimpse of the natural man,impulsive, ardent, keenly sensitive. The next the aristocratic mask wasreplaced, and the gentle voice had returned. "Besides the members of theCabinet there are two, or possibly three, departmental officials who knowof the letter. No one else in England, Mr. Holmes, I assure you.""But abroad?""I believe that no one abroad has seen it save the man who wrote it. Iam well convinced that his Ministers-that the usual official channels havenot been employed."Holmes considered for some little time."Now, sir, I must ask you more particularly what this document is, andwhy its disappearance should have such momentous consequences?"The two statesmen exchanged a quick glance and the Premier's shaggyeyebrows gathered in a frown."Mr. Holmes, the envelope is a long, thin one of pale blue colour.There is a seal of red wax stamped with a crouching lion. It is addressedin large, bold handwriting to- -""I fear, sir," said Holmes, "that, interesting and indeed essential asthese details are, my inquiries must go more to the root of things. Whatwas the letter?""That is a State secret of the utmost importance, and I fear that I cannottell you, nor do I see that it is necessary. If by the aid of the powers whichyou are said to possess you can find such an envelope as I describe withits enclosure, you will have deserved well of your country, and earnedany reward which it lies in our power to bestow."Sherlock Holmes rose with a smile."You are two of the most busy men in the country," said he, "and in myown small way I have also a good many calls upon me. I regretexceedingly that I cannot help you in this matter, and any continuation ofthis interview would be a waste of time."The Premier sprang to his feet with that quick, fierce gleam of his deepset eyes before which a Cabinet has cowered. "I am not accustomed, sir, "he began, but mastered his anger and resumed his seat. For a minute ormore we all sat in silence. Then the old statesman shrugged his shoulders."We must accept your terms, Mr. Holmes. No doubt you are right, andit is unreasonable for us to expect you to act unless we give you our entireconfidence."[653] "I agree with you," said the younger statesman."Then I will tell you, relying entirely upon your honour and that ofyour colleague, Dr. Watson. I may appeal to your patriotism also, for Icould not imagine a greater misfortune for the country than that this affairshould come out.""You may safely trust us.""The letter, then, is from a certain foreign potentate who has beenruffled by some recent Colonial developments of this country. It has beenwritten hurriedly and upon his own responsibility entirely. Inquiries haveshown that his Ministers know nothing of the matter. At the same time itis couched in so unfortunate a manner, and certain phrases in it are of soprovocative a character, that its publication would undoubtedly lead to amost dangerous state of feeling in this country. There would be such aferment, sir, that I do not hesitate to say that within a week of thepublication of that letter this country would be involved in a great war."Holmes wrote a name upon a slip of paper and handed it to the Premier."Exactly. It was he. And it is this letter-this letter which may wellmean the expenditure of a thousand millions and the lives of a hundredthousand men-which has become lost in this unaccountable fashion.""Have you informed the sender?""Yes, sir, a cipher telegram has been despatched.""Perhaps he desires the publication of the letter." "No, sir, we have strong reason to believe that he already understandsthat he has acted in an indiscreet and hot-headed manner. It would be agreater blow to him and to his country than to us if this letter were tocome out.""If this is so, whose interest is it that the letter should come out? Whyshould anyone desire to steal it or to publish it?""There, Mr. Holmes, you take me into regions of high internationalpolitics. But if you consider the European situation you will have nodifficulty in perceiving the motive. The whole of Europe is an armedcamp. There is a double league which makes a fair balance of militarypower. Great Britain holds the scales. If Britain were driven into war withone confederacy, it would assure the supremacy of the other confederacy,whether they joined in the war or not. Do you follow?""Very clearly. It is then the interest of the enemies of this potentate tosecure and publish this letter, so as to make a breach between his countryand ours?""Yes, sir.""And to whom would this document be sent if it fell into the hands ofan enemy?""To any of the great Chancelleries of Europe. It is probably speedingon its way thither at the present instant as fast as steam can take it."Mr. Trelawney Hope dropped his head on his chest and groaned aloud.The Premier placed his hand kindly upon his shoulder."It is your misfortune, my dear fellow. No one can blame you. There isno precaution which you have neglected. Now, Mr. Holmes, you are infull possession of the facts. What course do you recommend?"Holmes shook his head mournfully."You think, sir, that unless this document is recovered there will bewar?""I think it is very probable.""Then, sir, prepare for war.""That is a hard saying, Mr. Holmes.""Consider the facts, sir. It is inconceivable that it was taken after eleventhirty [654] at night, since I understand that Mr. Hope and his wife wereboth in the room from that hour until the loss was found out. It was taken,then, yesterday evening between seven-thirty and eleven-thirty, probablynear the earlier hour, since whoever took it evidently knew that it wasthere and would naturally secure it as early as possible. Now, sir, if adocument of this importance were taken at that hour, where can it benow? No one has any reason to retain it. It has been passed rapidly on tothose who need it. What chance have we now to overtake or even to traceit? It is beyond our reach."The Prime Minister rose from the settee."What you say is perfectly logical, Mr. Holmes. I feel that the matter isindeed out of our hands.""Let us presume, for argument's sake, that the document was taken bythe maid or by the valet- -""They are both old and tried servants.""I understand you to say that your room is on the second floor, that there is no entrance from without, and that from within no one could goup unobserved. It must, then, be somebody in the house who has taken it.To whom would the thief take it? To one of several international spiesand secret agents, whose names are tolerably familiar to me. There arethree who may be said to be the heads of their profession. I will begin myresearch by going round and finding if each of them is at his post. If oneis missing-especially if he has disappeared since last night-we will havesome indication as to where the document has gone.""Why should he be missing?" asked the European Secretary. "Hewould take the letter to an Embassy in London, as likely as not.""I fancy not. These agents work independently, and their relations withthe Embassies are often strained."The Prime Minister nodded his acquiescence."I believe you are right, Mr. Holmes. He would take so valuable a prizeto headquarters with his own hands. I think that your course of action isan excellent one. Meanwhile, Hope, we cannot neglect all our other dutieson account of this one misfortune. Should there be any freshdevelopments during the day we shall communicate with you, and youwill no doubt let us know the results of your own inquiries."The two statesmen bowed and walked gravely from the room.When our illustrious visitors had departed Holmes lit his pipe in silenceand sat for some time lost in the deepest thought. I had opened themorning paper and was immersed in a sensational crime which hadoccurred in London the night before, when my friend gave anexclamation, sprang to his feet, and laid his pipe down upon themantelpiece."Yes," said he, "there is no better way of approaching it. The situationis desperate, but not hopeless. Even now, if we could be sure which ofthem has taken it, it is just possible that it has not yet passed out of hishands. After all, it is a question of money with these fellows, and I havethe British treasury behind me. If it's on the market I'll buy it-if it meansanother penny on the income-tax. It is conceivable that the fellow mighthold it back to see what bids come from this side before he tries his luckon the other. There are only those three capable of playing so bold agame-there are Oberstein, La Rothiere, and Eduardo Lucas. I will seeeach of them."I glanced at my morning paper.[655] "Is that Eduardo Lucas of Godolphin Street?""Yes.""You will not see him.""Why not?""He was murdered in his house last night."My friend has so often astonished me in the course of our adventuresthat it was with a sense of exultation that I realized how completely I hadastonished him. He stared in amazement, and then snatched the paperfrom my hands. This was the paragraph which I had been engaged inreading when he rose from his chair.MURDER IN WESTMINSTERA crime of mysterious character was committed last night at 16Godolphin Street, one of the old-fashioned and secluded rows ofeighteenth century houses which lie between the river and theAbbey, almost in the shadow of the great Tower of the Houses ofParliament. This small but select mansion has been inhabited forsome years by Mr. Eduardo Lucas, well known in society circlesboth on account of his charming personality and because he hasthe well-deserved reputation of being one of the best amateurtenors in the country. Mr. Lucas is an unmarried man, thirty-fouryears of age, and his establishment consists of Mrs. Pringle, anelderly housekeeper, and of Mitton, his valet. The former retiresearly and sleeps at the top of the house. The valet was out for theevening, visiting a friend at Hammersmith. From ten o'clockonward Mr. Lucas had the house to himself. What occurred duringthat time has not yet transpired, but at a quarter to twelve Policeconstable Barrett, passing along Godolphin Street, observed thatthe door of No. 16 was ajar. He knocked, but received no answer.Perceiving a light in the front room, he advanced into the passageand again knocked, but without reply. He then pushed open thedoor and entered. The room was in a state of wild disorder, thefurniture being all swept to one side, and one chair lying on itsback in the centre. Beside this chair, and still grasping one of itslegs, lay the unfortunate tenant of the house. He had been stabbedto the heart and must have died instantly. The knife with which thecrime had been committed was a curved Indian dagger, pluckeddown from a trophy of Oriental arms which adorned one of thewalls. Robbery does not appear to have been the motive of thecrime, for there had been no attempt to remove the valuablecontents of the room. Mr. Eduardo Lucas was so well known andpopular that his violent and mysterious fate will arouse painfulinterest and intense sympathy in a widespread circle of friends."Well, Watson, what do you make of this?" asked Holmes, after a longpause."It is an amazing coincidence.""A coincidence! Here is one of the three men whom we had named aspossible actors in this drama, and he meets a violent death during the veryhours when we know that that drama was being enacted. The odds areenormous against its being coincidence. No figures could express them.No, my dear Watson, the two events are connected-must be connected. Itis for us to find the connection.""But now the official police must know all.""Not at all. They know all they see at Godolphin Street. Theyknow-and shall [656] know-nothing of Whitehall Terrace. Only we knowof both events, and can trace the relation between them. There is oneobvious point which would, in any case, have turned my suspicionsagainst Lucas. Godolphin Street, Westminster, is only a few minutes'walk from Whitehall Terrace. The other secret agents whom I havenamed live in the extreme West End. It was easier, therefore, for Lucasthan for the others to establish a connection or receive a message from theEuropean Secretary's household-a small thing, and yet where events arecompressed into a few hours it may prove essential. Halloa! what have wehere?"Mrs. Hudson had appeared with a lady's card upon her salver. Holmesglanced at it, raised his eyebrows, and handed it over to me."Ask Lady Hilda Trelawney Hope if she will be kind enough to stepup," said he.A moment later our modest apartment, already so distinguished thatmorning, was further honoured by the entrance of the most lovely womanin London. I had often heard of the beauty of the youngest daughter of theDuke of Belminster, but no description of it, and no contemplation ofcolourless photographs, had prepared me for the subtle, delicate charmand the beautiful colouring of that exquisite head. And yet as we saw itthat autumn morning, it was not its beauty which would be the first thingto impress the observer. The cheek was lovely but it was paled withemotion, the eyes were bright, but it was the brightness of fever, thesensitive mouth was tight and drawn in an effort after self-command.Terror-not beauty-was what sprang first to the eye as our fair visitorstood framed for an instant in the open door."Has my husband been here, Mr. Holmes?""Yes, madam, he has been here.""Mr. Holmes, I implore you not to tell him that I came here." Holmesbowed coldly, and motioned the lady to a chair."Your ladyship places me in a very delicate position. I beg that you willsit down and tell me what you desire, but I fear that I cannot make anyunconditional promise."She swept across the room and seated herself with her back to thewindow. It was a queenly presence-tall, graceful, and intensely womanly."Mr. Holmes," she said-and her white-gloved hands clasped andunclasped as she spoke-"I will speak frankly to you in the hopes that itmay induce you to speak frankly in return. There is complete confidence between my husband and me on all matters save one. That one is politics.On this his lips are sealed. He tells me nothing. Now, I am aware thatthere was a most deplorable occurrence in our house last night. I knowthat a paper has disappeared. But because the matter is political myhusband refuses to take me into his complete confidence. Now it isessential-essential, I say-that I should thoroughly understand it. You arethe only other person, save only these politicians, who knows the truefacts. I beg you then, Mr. Holmes, to tell me exactly what has happenedand what it will lead to. Tell me all, Mr. Holmes. Let no regard for yourclient's interests keep you silent, for I assure you that his interests, if hewould only see it, would be best served by taking me into his completeconfidence. What was this paper which was stolen?""Madam, what you ask me is really impossible."She groaned and sank her face in her hands."You must see that this is so, madam. If your husband thinks fit to keepyou in the dark over this matter, is it for me, who has only learned the truefacts under [657] the pledge of professional secrecy, to tell what he haswithheld? It is not fair to ask it. It is him whom you must ask.""I have asked him. I come to you as a last resource. But without yourtelling me anything definite, Mr. Holmes, you may do a great service ifyou would enlighten me on one point.""What is it, madam?""Is my husband's political career likely to suffer through this incident?""Well, madam, unless it is set right it may certainly have a veryunfortunate effect.""Ah!" She drew in her breath sharply as one whose doubts are resolved."One more question, Mr. Holmes. From an expression which myhusband dropped in the first shock of this disaster I understood thatterrible public consequences might arise from the loss of this document.""If he said so, I certainly cannot deny it.""Of what nature are they?""Nay, madam, there again you ask me more than I can possiblyanswer.""Then I will take up no more of your time. I cannot blame you, Mr.Holmes, for having refused to speak more freely, and you on your sidewill not, I am sure, think the worse of me because I desire, even againsthis will, to share my husband's anxieties. Once more I beg that you willsay nothing of my visit."She looked back at us from the door, and I had a last impression of thatbeautiful haunted face, the startled eyes, and the drawn mouth. Then shewas gone."Now, Watson, the fair sex is your department," said Holmes, with asmile, when the dwindling frou-frou of skirts had ended in the slam of thefront door. "What was the fair lady's game? What did she really want?""Surely her own statement is clear and her anxiety very natural.""Hum! Think of her appearance, Watson-her manner, her suppressedexcitement, her restlessness, her tenacity in asking questions. Rememberthat she comes of a caste who do not lightly show emotion.""She was certainly much moved.""Remember also the curious earnestness with which she assured us thatit was best for her husband that she should know all. What did she meanby that? And you must have observed, Watson, how she manoeuvred tohave the light at her back. She did not wish us to read her expression.""Yes, she chose the one chair in the room.""And yet the motives of women are so inscrutable. You remember thewoman at Margate whom I suspected for the same reason. No powder onher nose-that proved to be the correct solution. How can you build onsuch a quicksand? Their most trivial action may mean volumes, or theirmost extraordinary conduct may depend upon a hairpin or a curling tongs.Good-morning, Watson.""You are off?""Yes, I will while away the morning at Godolphin Street with our friends of the regular establishment. With Eduardo Lucas lies the solutionof our problem, though I must admit that I have not an inkling as to whatform it may take. It is a capital mistake to theorize in advance of the facts.Do you stay on guard, my good Watson, and receive any fresh visitors.I'll join you at lunch if I am able."All that day and the next and the next Holmes was in a mood which hisfriends would call taciturn, and others morose. He ran out and ran in,smoked incessantly, played snatches on his violin, sank into reveries,devoured sandwiches at irregular [658] hours, and hardly answered thecasual questions which I put to him. It was evident to me that things werenot going well with him or his quest. He would say nothing of the case,and it was from the papers that I learned the particulars of the inquest, andthe arrest with the subsequent release of John Mitton, the valet of thedeceased. The coroner's jury brought in the obvious Wilful Murder, butthe parties remained as unknown as ever. No motive was suggested. Theroom was full of articles of value, but none had been taken. The deadman's papers had not been tampered with. They were carefully examined,and showed that he was a keen student of international politics, anindefatigable gossip, a remarkable linguist, and an untiring letter writer.He had been on intimate terms with the leading politicians of severalcountries. But nothing sensational was discovered among the documentswhich filled his drawers. As to his relations with women, they appeared tohave been promiscuous but superficial. He had many acquaintancesamong them, but few friends, and no one whom he loved. His habits wereregular, his conduct inoffensive. His death was an absolute mystery andlikely to remain so.As to the arrest of John Mitton, the valet, it was a council of despair asan alternative to absolute inaction. But no case could be sustained againsthim. He had visited friends in Hammersmith that night. The alibi wascomplete. It is true that he started home at an hour which should havebrought him to Westminster before the time when the crime wasdiscovered, but his own explanation that he had walked part of the wayseemed probable enough in view of the fineness of the night. He hadactually arrived at twelve o'clock, and appeared to be overwhelmed bythe unexpected tragedy. He had always been on good terms with hismaster. Several of the dead man's possessions-notably a small case ofrazors-had been found in the valet's boxes, but he explained that they hadbeen presents from the deceased, and the housekeeper was able tocorroborate the story. Mitton had been in Lucas's employment for threeyears. It was noticeable that Lucas did not take Mitton on the Continentwith him. Sometimes he visited Paris for three months on end, but Mittonwas left in charge of the Godolphin Street house. As to the housekeeper,she had heard nothing on the night of the crime. If her master had a visitorhe had himself admitted him.So for three mornings the mystery remained, so far as I could follow itin the papers. If Holmes knew more, he kept his own counsel, but, as hetold me that Inspector Lestrade had taken him into his confidence in thecase, I knew that he was in close touch with every development. Upon thefourth day there appeared a long telegram from Paris which seemed to solve the whole question.A discovery has just been made by the Parisian police [said the DailyTelegraph] which raises the veil which hung round the tragic fate of Mr.Eduardo Lucas, who met his death by violence last Monday night atGodolphin Street, Westminster. Our readers will remember that thedeceased gentleman was found stabbed in his room, and that somesuspicion attached to his valet, but that the case broke down on an alibi.Yesterday a lady, who has been known as Mme. Henri Fournaye,occupying a small villa in the Rue Austerlitz, was reported to theauthorities by her servants as being insane. An examination showed shehad indeed developed mania of a dangerous and permanent form. Oninquiry, the police have discovered that Mme. Henri Fournaye onlyreturned from a journey to London on Tuesday last, and there is evidenceto connect her with the crime at Westminster. [659] A comparison ofphotographs has proved conclusively that M. Henri Fournaye andEduardo Lucas were really one and the same person, and that thedeceased had for some reason lived a double life in London and Paris.Mme. Fournaye, who is of Creole origin, is of an extremely excitablenature, and has suffered in the past from attacks of jealousy which haveamounted to frenzy. It is conjectured that it was in one of these that shecommitted the terrible crime which has caused such a sensation inLondon. Her movements upon the Monday night have not yet beentraced, but it is undoubted that a woman answering to her descriptionattracted much attention at Charing Cross Station on Tuesday morning bythe wildness of her appearance and the violence of her gestures. It isprobable, therefore, that the crime was either committed when insane, orthat its immediate effect was to drive the unhappy woman out of hermind. At present she is unable to give any coherent account of the past,and the doctors hold out no hopes of the reestablishment of her reason.There is evidence that a woman, who might have been Mme. Fournaye,was seen for some hours upon Monday night watching the house inGodolphin Street."What do you think of that, Holmes?" I had read the account aloud tohim, while he finished his breakfast."My dear Watson," said he, as he rose from the table and paced up anddown the room, "you are most long-suffering, but if I have told younothing in the last three days, it is because there is nothing to tell. Evennow this report from Paris does not help us much.""Surely it is final as regards the man's death.""The man's death is a mere incident-a trivial episode-in comparisonwith our real task, which is to trace this document and save a Europeancatastrophe. Only one important thing has happened in the last three days,and that is that nothing has happened. I get reports almost hourly from thegovernment, and it is certain that nowhere in Europe is there any sign oftrouble. Now, if this letter were loose-no, it can't be loose-but if it isn'tloose, where can it be? Who has it? Why is it held back? That's thequestion that beats in my brain like a hammer. Was it, indeed, a coincidence that Lucas should meet his death on the night when the letterdisappeared? Did the letter ever reach him? If so, why is it not among hispapers? Did this mad wife of his carry it off with her? If so, is it in herhouse in Paris? How could I search for it without the French policehaving their suspicions aroused? It is a case, my dear Watson, where thelaw is as dangerous to us as the criminals are. Every man's hand is againstus, and yet the interests at stake are colossal. Should I bring it to asuccessful conclusion, it will certainly represent the crowning glory of mycareer. Ah, here is my latest from the front!" He glanced hurriedly at thenote which had been handed in. "Halloa! Lestrade seems to haveobserved something of interest. Put on your hat, Watson, and we willstroll down together to Westminster."It was my first visit to the scene of the crime-a high, dingy, narrowchested house, prim, formal, and solid, like the century which gave itbirth. Lestrade's bulldog features gazed out at us from the front window,and he greeted us warmly when a big constable had opened the door andlet us in. The room into which we were shown was that in which thecrime had been committed, but no trace of it now remained save an ugly,irregular stain upon the carpet. This carpet was a [660] small squaredrugget in the centre of the room, surrounded by a broad expanse ofbeautiful, old-fashioned wood-flooring in square blocks, highly polished.Over the fireplace was a magnificent trophy of weapons, one of whichhad been used on that tragic night. In the window was a sumptuouswriting-desk, and every detail of the apartment, the pictures, the rugs, andthe hangings, all pointed to a taste which was luxurious to the verge ofeffeminacy."Seen the Paris news?" asked Lestrade.Holmes nodded."Our French friends seem to have touched the spot this time. No doubtit's just as they say. She knocked at the door-surprise visit, I guess, for hekept his life in water-tight compartments-he let her in, couldn't keep herin the street. She told him how she had traced him, reproached him. Onething led to another, and then with that dagger so handy the end sooncame. It wasn't all done in an instant, though, for these chairs were allswept over yonder, and he had one in his hand as if he had tried to holdher off with it. We've got it all clear as if we had seen it."Holmes raised his eyebrows."And yet you have sent for me?""Ah, yes, that's another matter-a mere trifle, but the sort of thing youtake an interest in-queer, you know, and what you might call freakish. Ithas nothing to do with the main fact-can't have, on the face of it.""What is it, then?""Well, you know, after a crime of this sort we are very careful to keepthings in their position. Nothing has been moved. Officer in charge hereday and night. This morning, as the man was buried and the investigationover-so far as this room is concerned-we thought we could tidy up a bit.This carpet. You see, it is not fastened down, only just laid there. We hadoccasion to raise it. We found- -""Yes? You found- -" Holmes's face grew tense with anxiety."Well, I'm sure you would never guess in a hundred years what we didfind. You see that stain on the carpet? Well, a great deal must havesoaked through, must it not?""Undoubtedly it must.""Well, you will be surprised to hear that there is no stain on the whitewoodwork to correspond.""No stain! But there must- -""Yes, so you would say. But the fact remains that there isn't."He took the corner of the carpet in his hand and, turning it over, heshowed that it was indeed as he said."But the under side is as stained as the upper. It must have left a mark."Lestrade chuckled with delight at having puzzled the famous expert."Now, I'll show you the explanation. There is a second stain, but itdoes not correspond with the other. See for yourself." As he spoke heturned over another portion of the carpet, and there, sure enough, was agreat crimson spill upon the square white facing of the old-fashionedfloor. "What do you make of that, Mr. Holmes?""Why, it is simple enough. The two stains did correspond, but thecarpet has been turned round. As it was square and unfastened it waseasily done.""The official police don't need you, Mr. Holmes, to tell them that thecarpet must have been turned round. That's clear enough, for the stains lieabove each [661] other-if you lay it over this way. But what I want toknow is, who shifted the carpet, and why?"I could see from Holmes's rigid face that he was vibrating with inwardexcitement. "Look here, Lestrade," said he, "has that constable in the passage beenin charge of the place all the time?""Yes, he has.""Well, take my advice. Examine him carefully. Don't do it before us.We'll wait here. You take him into the back room. You'll be more likelyto get a confession out of him alone. Ask him how he dared to admitpeople and leave them alone in this room. Don't ask him if he has done it.Take it for granted. Tell him you know someone has been here. Presshim. Tell him that a full confession is his only chance of forgiveness. Doexactly what I tell you!""By George, if he knows I'll have it out of him!" cried Lestrade. Hedarted into the hall, and a few moments later his bullying voice soundedfrom the back room."Now, Watson, now!" cried Holmes with frenzied eagerness. All thedemoniacal force of the man masked behind that listless manner burst outin a paroxysm of energy. He tore the drugget from the floor, and in aninstant was down on his hands and knees clawing at each of the squaresof wood beneath it. One turned sideways as he dug his nails into the edgeof it. It hinged back like the lid of a box. A small black cavity openedbeneath it. Holmes plunged his eager hand into it and drew it out with abitter snarl of anger and disappointment. It was empty."Quick, Watson, quick! Get it back again!" The wooden lid wasreplaced, and the drugget had only just been drawn straight whenLestrade's voice was heard in the passage. He found Holmes leaninglanguidly against the mantelpiece, resigned and patient, endeavouring to conceal his irrepressible yawns."Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Holmes. I can see that you are bored todeath with the whole affair. Well, he has confessed, all right. Come inhere, MacPherson. Let these gentlemen hear of your most inexcusableconduct."The big constable, very hot and penitent, sidled into the room."I meant no harm, sir, I'm sure. The young woman came to the doorlast evening-mistook the house, she did. And then we got talking. It'slonesome, when you're on duty here all day.""Well, what happened then?""She wanted to see where the crime was done-had read about it in thepapers, she said. She was a very respectable, well-spoken young woman,sir, and I saw no harm in letting her have a peep. When she saw that markon the carpet, down she dropped on the floor, and lay as if she were dead.I ran to the back and got some water, but I could not bring her to. Then Iwent round the corner to the Ivy Plant for some brandy, and by the time Ihad brought it back the young woman had recovered and wasoff-ashamed of herself, I daresay, and dared not face me.""How about moving that drugget?""Well, sir, it was a bit rumpled, certainly, when I came back. You see,she fell on it and it lies on a polished floor with nothing to keep it inplace. I straightened it out afterwards.""It's a lesson to you that you can't deceive me, ConstableMacPherson," said Lestrade, with dignity. "No doubt you thought thatyour breach of duty could never be discovered, and yet a mere glance atthat drugget was enough to convince me [662] that someone had beenadmitted to the room. It's lucky for you, my man, that nothing is missing,or you would find yourself in Queer Street. I'm sorry to have called youdown over such a petty business, Mr. Holmes, but I thought the point ofthe second stain not corresponding with the first would interest you.""Certainly, it was most interesting. Has this woman only been hereonce, constable?""Yes, sir, only once.""Who was she?""Don't know the name, sir. Was answering an advertisement abouttypewriting and came to the wrong number-very pleasant, genteel youngwoman, sir.""Tall? Handsome?""Yes, sir, she was a well-grown young woman. I suppose you mightsay she was handsome. Perhaps some would say she was very handsome.'Oh, officer, do let me have a peep!' says she. She had pretty, coaxingways, as you might say, and I thought there was no harm in letting herjust put her head through the door.""How was she dressed?""Quiet, sir-a long mantle down to her feet.""What time was it?""It was just growing dusk at the time. They were lighting the lamps as Icame back with the brandy.""Very good," said Holmes. "Come, Watson, I think that we have more important work elsewhere."As we left the house Lestrade remained in the front room, while therepentant constable opened the door to let us out. Holmes turned on thestep and held up something in his hand. The constable stared intently."Good Lord, sir!" he cried, with amazement on his face. Holmes put hisfinger on his lips, replaced his hand in his breast pocket, and burst outlaughing as we turned down the street. "Excellent!" said he. "Come,friend Watson, the curtain rings up for the last act. You will be relieved tohear that there will be no war, that the Right Honourable Trelawney Hopewill suffer no setback in his brilliant career, that the indiscreet Sovereignwill receive no punishment for his indiscretion, that the Prime Ministerwill have no European complication to deal with, and that with a little tactand management upon our part nobody will be a penny the worse forwhat might have been a very ugly incident."My mind filled with admiration for this extraordinary man."You have solved it!" I cried."Hardly that, Watson. There are some points which are as dark as ever.But we have so much that it will be our own fault if we cannot get therest. We will go straight to Whitehall Terrace and bring the matter to ahead."When we arrived at the residence of the European Secretary it was forLady Hilda Trelawney Hope that Sherlock Holmes inquired. We wereshown into the morning-room."Mr. Holmes!" said the lady, and her face was pink with herindignation. "This is surely most unfair and ungenerous upon your part. Idesired, as I have explained, to keep my visit to you a secret, lest myhusband should think that I was intruding into his affairs. And yet youcompromise me by coming here and so showing that there are businessrelations between us.""Unfortunately, madam, I had no possible alternative. I have beencommissioned [663] to recover this immensely important paper. I musttherefore ask you, madam, to be kind enough to place it in my hands."The lady sprang to her feet, with the colour all dashed in an instantfrom her beautiful face. Her eyes glazed-she tottered-I thought that shewould faint. Then with a grand effort she rallied from the shock, and asupreme astonishment and indignation chased every other expressionfrom her features."You-you insult me, Mr. Holmes.""Come, come, madam, it is useless. Give up the letter."She darted to the bell."The butler shall show you out.""Do not ring, Lady Hilda. If you do, then all my earnest efforts to avoida scandal will be frustrated. Give up the letter and all will be set right. Ifyou will work with me I can arrange everything. If you work against me Imust expose you."She stood grandly defiant, a queenly figure, her eyes fixed upon his asif she would read his very soul. Her hand was on the bell, but she hadforborne to ring it."You are trying to frighten me. It is not a very manly thing, Mr.Holmes, to come here and browbeat a woman. You say that you knowsomething. What is it that you know?""Pray sit down, madam. You will hurt yourself there if you fall. I willnot speak until you sit down. Thank you.""I give you five minutes, Mr. Holmes.""One is enough, Lady Hilda. I know of your visit to Eduardo Lucas, ofyour giving him this document, of your ingenious return to the room lastnight, and of the manner in which you took the letter from the hidingplace under the carpet."She stared at him with an ashen face and gulped twice before she couldspeak."You are mad, Mr. Holmes-you are mad!" she cried, at last.He drew a small piece of cardboard from his pocket. It was the face ofa woman cut out of a portrait."I have carried this because I thought it might be useful," said he. "Thepoliceman has recognized it."She gave a gasp, and her head dropped back in the chair."Come, Lady Hilda. You have the letter. The matter may still beadjusted. I have no desire to bring trouble to you. My duty ends when Ihave returned the lost letter to your husband. Take my advice and befrank with me. It is your only chance."Her courage was admirable. Even now she would not own defeat."I tell you again, Mr. Holmes, that you are under some absurd illusion."Holmes rose from his chair."I am sorry for you, Lady Hilda. I have done my best for you. I can seethat it is all in vain."He rang the bell. The butler entered."Is Mr. Trelawney Hope at home?""He will be home, sir, at a quarter to one."Holmes glanced at his watch."Still a quarter of an hour," said he. "Very good, I shall wait."The butler had hardly closed the door behind him when Lady Hilda wasdown on her knees at Holmes's feet, her hands outstretched, her beautifulface upturned and wet with her tears."Oh, spare me, Mr. Holmes! Spare me!" she pleaded, in a frenzy of[664] supplication. "For heaven's sake, don't tell him! I love him so! Iwould not bring one shadow on his life, and this I know would break hisnoble heart."Holmes raised the lady. "I am thankful, madam, that you have come toyour senses even at this last moment! There is not an instant to lose. Where is the letter?"She darted across to a writing-desk, unlocked it, and drew out a longblue envelope."Here it is, Mr. Holmes. Would to heaven I had never seen it!""How can we return it?" Holmes muttered. "Quick, quick, we mustthink of some way! Where is the despatch-box?""Still in his bedroom.""What a stroke of luck! Quick, madam, bring it here!"A moment later she had appeared with a red flat box in her hand."How did you open it before? You have a duplicate key? Yes, of courseyou have. Open it!"From out of her bosom Lady Hilda had drawn a small key. The boxflew open. It was stuffed with papers. Holmes thrust the blue envelopedeep down into the heart of them, between the leaves of some otherdocument. The box was shut, locked, and returned to the bedroom."Now we are ready for him," said Holmes. "We have still ten minutes.I am going far to screen you, Lady Hilda. In return you will spend thetime in telling me frankly the real meaning of this extraordinary affair.""Mr. Holmes, I will tell you everything," cried the lady. "Oh, Mr.Holmes, I would cut off my right hand before I gave him a moment ofsorrow! There is no woman in all London who loves her husband as I do,and yet if he knew how I have acted-how I have been compelled toact-he would never forgive me. For his own honour stands so high that hecould not forget or pardon a lapse in another. Help me, Mr. Holmes! Myhappiness, his happiness, our very lives are at stake!""Quick, madam, the time grows short!""It was a letter of mine, Mr. Holmes, an indiscreet letter written beforemy marriage-a foolish letter, a letter of an impulsive, loving girl. I meantno harm, and yet he would have thought it criminal. Had he read thatletter his confidence would have been forever destroyed. It is years since Iwrote it. I had thought that the whole matter was forgotten. Then at last Iheard from this man, Lucas, that it had passed into his hands, and that hewould lay it before my husband. I implored his mercy. He said that hewould return my letter if I would bring him a certain document which hedescribed in my husband's despatch-box. He had some spy in the officewho had told him of its existence. He assured me that no harm couldcome to my husband. Put yourself in my position, Mr. Holmes! What wasI to do?""Take your husband into your confidence.""I could not, Mr. Holmes, I could not! On the one side seemed certainruin, on the other, terrible as it seemed to take my husband's paper, still ina matter of politics I could not understand the consequences, while in amatter of love and trust they were only too clear to me. I did it, Mr.Holmes! I took an impression of his key. This man, Lucas, furnished aduplicate. I opened his despatch-box, took the paper, and conveyed it toGodolphin Street.""What happened there, madam?"[665] "I tapped at the door as agreed. Lucas opened it. I followed himinto his room, leaving the hall door ajar behind me, for I feared to be alone with the man. I remember that there was a woman outside as Ientered. Our business was soon done. He had my letter on his desk, Ihanded him the document. He gave me the letter. At this instant there wasa sound at the door. There were steps in the passage. Lucas quickly turnedback the drugget, thrust the document into some hiding-place there, andcovered it over."What happened after that is like some fearful dream. I have a vision ofa dark, frantic face, of a woman's voice, which screamed in French, 'Mywaiting is not in vain. At last, at last I have found you with her!' Therewas a savage struggle. I saw him with a chair in his hand, a knife gleamedin hers. I rushed from the horrible scene, ran from the house, and onlynext morning in the paper did I learn the dreadful result. That night I washappy, for I had my letter, and I had not seen yet what the future wouldbring."It was the next morning that I realized that I had only exchanged onetrouble for another. My husband's anguish at the loss of his paper went tomy heart. I could hardly prevent myself from there and then kneelingdown at his feet and telling him what I had done. But that again wouldmean a confession of the past. I came to you that morning in order tounderstand the full enormity of my offence. From the instant that Igrasped it my whole mind was turned to the one thought of getting backmy husband's paper. It must still be where Lucas had placed it, for it wasconcealed before this dreadful woman entered the room. If it had not beenfor her coming, I should not have known where his hiding-place was.How was I to get into the room? For two days I watched the place, but thedoor was never left open. Last night I made a last attempt. What I did andhow I succeeded, you have already learned. I brought the paper back withme, and thought of destroying it, since I could see no way of returning itwithout confessing my guilt to my husband. Heavens, I hear his step uponthe stair!"The European Secretary burst excitedly into the room."Any news, Mr. Holmes, any news?" he cried."I have some hopes.""Ah, thank heaven!" His face became radiant. "The Prime Minister islunching with me. May he share your hopes? He has nerves of steel, andyet I know that he has hardly slept since this terrible event. Jacobs, willyou ask the Prime Minister to come up? As to you, dear, I fear that this isa matter of politics. We will join you in a few minutes in the diningroom."The Prime Minister's manner was subdued, but I could see by thegleam of his eyes and the twitchings of his bony hands that he shared theexcitement of his young colleague."I understand that you have something to report, Mr. Holmes?""Purely negative as yet," my friend answered. "I have inquired at everypoint where it might be, and I am sure that there is no danger to beapprehended.""But that is not enough, Mr. Holmes. We cannot live forever on such avolcano. We must have something definite.""I am in hopes of getting it. That is why I am here. The more I think of the matter the more convinced I am that the letter has never left thishouse.""Mr. Holmes!""If it had it would certainly have been public by now.""But why should anyone take it in order to keep it in his house?"[666] "I am not convinced that anyone did take it.""Then how could it leave the despatch-box?""I am not convinced that it ever did leave the despatch-box.""Mr. Holmes, this joking is very ill-timed. You have my assurance thatit left the box.""Have you examined the box since Tuesday morning?""No. It was not necessary.""You may conceivably have overlooked it.""Impossible, I say.""But I am not convinced of it. I have known such things to happen. Ipresume there are other papers there. Well, it may have got mixed withthem.""It was on the top.""Someone may have shaken the box and displaced it.""No, no, I had everything out.""Surely it is easily decided, Hope," said the Premier. "Let us have thedespatch-box brought in."The Secretary rang the bell."Jacobs, bring down my despatch-box. This is a farcical waste of time,but still, if nothing else will satisfy you, it shall be done. Thank you,Jacobs, put it here. I have always had the key on my watch-chain. Hereare the papers, you see. Letter from Lord Merrow, report from Sir CharlesHardy, memorandum from Belgrade, note on the Russo-German graintaxes, letter from Madrid, note from Lord Flowers- - Good heavens!what is this? Lord Bellinger! Lord Bellinger!"The Premier snatched the blue envelope from his hand."Yes, it is it-and the letter is intact. Hope, I congratulate you.""Thank you! Thank you! What a weight from my heart. But this isinconceivable-impossible. Mr. Holmes, you are a wizard, a sorcerer!How did you know it was there?""Because I knew it was nowhere else.""I cannot believe my eyes!" He ran wildly to the door. "Where is mywife? I must tell her that all is well. Hilda! Hilda!" we heard his voice onthe stairs.The Premier looked at Holmes with twinkling eyes."Come, sir," said he. "There is more in this than meets the eye. Howcame the letter back in the box?"Holmes turned away smiling from the keen scrutiny of those wonderfuleyes."We also have our diplomatic secrets," said he and, picking up his hat,he turned to the door