The Return of Sherlock Holmes

by Arthur Conan Doyle

  XIII.--The Adventure of 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 whichI have never alluded, nor was it caused by any waning interest on thepart of my readers in the singular personality and unique methods ofthis remarkable man. The real reason lay in the reluctance which Mr.Holmes has shown to the continued publication of his experiences.So long as he was in actual professional practice the records ofhis successes were of some practical value to him; but since hehas definitely retired from London and betaken himself to study andbee-farming on the Sussex Downs, notoriety has become hateful to him,and he has peremptorily requested that his wishes in this matter shouldbe strictly observed. It was only upon my representing to him that Ihad given a promise that "The Adventure of the Second Stain" should bepublished when the times were ripe, and pointing out to him that it isonly appropriate that this long series of episodes should culminate inthe most important international case which he has ever been calledupon to handle, that I at last succeeded in obtaining his consent that acarefully-guarded account of the incident should at last be laid beforethe public. If in telling the story I seem to be somewhat vague incertain details the public will readily understand that there is anexcellent reason for my reticence.

  It was, then, in a year, and even in a decade, that shall be nameless,that upon one Tuesday morning in autumn we found two visitors ofEuropean fame within the walls of our humble room in Baker Street. Theone, austere, high-nosed, eagle-eyed, and dominant, was none other thanthe illustrious Lord Bellinger, twice Premier of Britain. The other,dark, clear-cut, and elegant, hardly yet of middle age, and endowed withevery beauty of body and of mind, was the Right Honourable TrelawneyHope, Secretary for European Affairs, and the most rising statesman inthe country. They sat side by side upon our paper-littered settee,and it was easy to see from their worn and anxious faces that it wasbusiness of the most pressing importance which had brought them. ThePremier's thin, blue-veined hands were clasped tightly over the ivoryhead of his umbrella, and his gaunt, ascetic face looked gloomily fromHolmes to me. The European Secretary pulled nervously at his moustacheand fidgeted with the seals of his watch-chain.

  "When I discovered my loss, Mr. Holmes, which was at eight o'clock thismorning, I at once informed the Prime Minister. It was at his suggestionthat 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 saythat peace or war may hang upon the issue. Unless its recovery can beattended with the utmost secrecy, then it may as well not be recoveredat all, for all that is aimed at by those who have taken it is that itscontents should 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. Itwas of such importance that I have never left it in my safe, but I havetaken it across each evening to my house in Whitehall Terrace, and keptit in my bedroom in a locked despatch-box. It was there last night. Ofthat I am certain. I actually opened the box while I was dressing fordinner, and saw the document inside. This morning it was gone. Thedespatch-box had stood beside the glass upon my dressing-table allnight. I am a light sleeper, and so is my wife. We are both prepared toswear that no one could have entered the room during the night. And yetI repeat that the paper 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 housemaid 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 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 pledgeof secrecy which attends every Cabinet meeting was increased by thesolemn warning which was given by the Prime Minister. Good heavens,to think that within a few hours I should myself have lost it!" Hishandsome 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 ofthe Cabinet there are two, or possibly three, departmental officials whoknow of 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 channelshave not 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. Thereis a seal of red wax stamped with a crouching lion. It is addressed inlarge, 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 Icannot tell you, nor do I see that it is necessary. If by the aid of thepowers which you are said to possess you can find such an envelope asI describe with its enclosure, you will have deserved well of yourcountry, and earned any 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 inmy own small way I have also a good many calls upon me. I regretexceedingly that I cannot help you in this matter, and any continuationof this interview would be a waste of time."

  The Premier sprang to his feet with that quick, fierce gleam of hisdeep-set eyes before which a Cabinet has cowered. "I am not accustomed,sir----" he began, but mastered his anger and resumed his seat. For aminute or more we all sat in silence. Then the old statesman shruggedhis shoulders.

  "We must accept yo
ur terms, Mr. Holmes. No doubt you are right, andit is unreasonable for us to expect you to act unless we give you ourentire confidence."

  "I agree with you, sir," 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, forI could not imagine a greater misfortune for the country than that thisaffair should 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. Ithas been written hurriedly and upon his own responsibility entirely.Inquiries have shown that his Ministers know nothing of the matter.At the same time it is couched in so unfortunate a manner, and certainphrases in it are of so provocative a character, that its publicationwould undoubtedly lead to a most dangerous state of feeling in thiscountry. There would be such a ferment, sir, that I do not hesitate tosay that within a week of the publication of that letter this countrywould 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?Why should 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 intowar with one confederacy, it would assure the supremacy of the otherconfederacy, whether they joined in the war or not. Do you follow?"

  "Very clearly. It is then the interest of the enemies of this potentateto secure and publish this letter, so as to make a breach between hiscountry and ours?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "And to whom would this document be sent if it fell into the hands of anenemy?"

  "To any of the great Chancelleries of Europe. It is probably speeding onits 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. ThePremier 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 in fullpossession 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 aftereleven-thirty at night, since I understand that Mr. Hope and his wifewere both in the room from that hour until the loss was found out.It was taken, then, yesterday evening between seven-thirty andeleven-thirty, probably near the earlier hour, since whoever took itevidently knew that it was there and would naturally secure it as earlyas possible. Now, sir, if a document of this importance were taken atthat hour, where can it be now? No one has any reason to retain it. Ithas been passed rapidly on to those who need it. What chance have we nowto overtake or even to trace it? It is beyond our reach."

  The Prime Minister rose from the settee.

  "What you say is perfectly logical, Mr. Holmes. I feel that the matteris indeed out of our hands."

  "Let us presume, for argument's sake, that the document was taken by themaid or by the valet----"

  "They are both old and tried servants."

  "I understand you to say that your room is on the second floor, thatthere 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 beginmy research by going round and finding if each of them is at his post.If one is missing--especially if he has disappeared since last night--wewill have some indication as to where the document has gone."

  "Why should he be missing?" asked the European Secretary. "He would takethe 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 head-quarters with his own hands. I think that your course of actionis an excellent one. Meanwhile, Hope, we cannot neglect all our otherduties on account of this one misfortune. Should there be any freshdevelopments during the day we shall communicate with you, and you willno 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 insilence, and sat for some time lost in the deepest thought. I had openedthe morning paper and was immersed in a sensational crime which hadoccurred in London the night before, when my friend gave an exclamation,sprang to his feet, and laid his pipe down upon the mantelpiece.

  "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 ofhis hands. After all, it is a question of money with these fellows, andI have the British Treasury behind me. If it's on the market I'll buyit--if it means another penny on the income-tax. It is conceivablethat the fellow might hold it back to see what bids come from thisside before he tries his luck on the other. There are only those threecapable of playing so bold a game; there are Oberstein, La Rothiere, andEduardo Lucas. I will see each of them."

  I glanced at my morning paper.

  "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 Ihad astonished him. He stared in amazement, and then snatched thepaper from my hands. This was the paragraph which I had been engaged inreading when he rose from his chair:--

  "MURDER IN WESTMINSTER.

  "A crime of mysterious character was committed last night at 16,Godolphin Street, one of the old-fashioned and secluded rows ofeighteenth-century houses which lie between the river and the Abbey,almost in the shadow of the great Tower of the Houses of Parliament.This small but select mansion has been inhabited for some years by Mr.Eduardo Lucas, well known in society circles both on account of hischarming personality and because he has the well-deserved reputationof being one of the best amateur tenors in the country. Mr. Lucas is anunmarried man, thirty-four years of age, and his establishment consistsof Mrs. Pringle, an elderly housekeeper, and of Mitton, his valet. Theformer retires early and sleeps at the top of the house. The valet wasout for the evening, visiting a friend at Hammersmith. From ten o'clockonwards Mr. Lucas had the house to himself. What occurred during thattime has not yet transpired, but at a quarter to twelve Police-constableBarrett, passing along Godolphin Street, observed that the door of No.16 was ajar.
He knocked, but received no answer. Perceiving a lightin the front room he advanced into the passage and again knocked, butwithout reply. He then pushed open the door and entered. The room was ina state of wild disorder, the furniture being all swept to one side, andone chair lying on its back in the centre. Beside this chair, and stillgrasping one of its legs, lay the unfortunate tenant of the house. Hehad been stabbed to the heart and must have died instantly. The knifewith which the crime had been committed was a curved Indian dagger,plucked down from a trophy of Oriental arms which adorned one of thewalls. Robbery does not appear to have been the motive of the crime, forthere had been no attempt to remove the valuable contents of the room.Mr. Eduardo Lucas was so well known and popular that his violent andmysterious fate will arouse painful interest and intense sympathy in awide-spread 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 thevery hours 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. They know--andshall know--nothing of Whitehall Terrace. Only WE know of both events,and can trace the relation between them. There is one obvious pointwhich would, in any case, have turned my suspicions against Lucas.Godolphin Street, Westminster, is only a few minutes' walk fromWhitehall Terrace. The other secret agents whom I have named live inthe extreme West-end. It was easier, therefore, for Lucas than for theothers 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 step up,"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 ofthe Duke of Belminster, but no description of it, and no contemplationof colourless photographs, had prepared me for the subtle, delicatecharm and the beautiful colouring of that exquisite head. And yet aswe saw it that autumn morning, it was not its beauty which would be thefirst thing to impress the observer. The cheek was lovely, but it waspaled with emotion; the eyes were bright, but it was the brightnessof fever; the sensitive mouth was tight and drawn in an effort afterself-command. Terror--not beauty--was what sprang first to the eye asour fair visitor stood 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 youwill sit down and tell me what you desire; but I fear that I cannot makeany unconditional promise."

  She swept across the room and seated herself with her back to thewindow. It was a queenly presence--tall, graceful, and intenselywomanly.

  "Mr. Holmes," she said, and her white-gloved hands clasped and unclaspedas she spoke--"I will speak frankly to you in the hope that it mayinduce you to speak frankly in return. There is complete confidencebetween 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. Youare the only other person, save only these politicians, who knows thetrue facts. I beg you, then, Mr. Holmes, to tell me exactly what hashappened and what it will lead to. Tell me all, Mr. Holmes. Let noregard for your client's interests keep you silent, for I assure youthat his interests, if he would only see it, would be best served bytaking me into his complete confidence. What was this paper which wasstolen?"

  "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 thetrue facts under 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 thisincident?"

  "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 my husbanddropped in the first shock of this disaster I understood that terriblepublic 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 possibly answer."

  "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, evenagainst his will, to share my husband's anxieties. Once more I beg thatyou will say nothing of my visit." She looked back at us from the door,and I had a last impression of that beautiful haunted face, the startledeyes, and the drawn mouth. Then she was gone.

  "Now, Watson, the fair sex is your department," said Holmes, with asmile, when the dwindling frou-frou of skirts had ended in the slamof the front door. "What was the fair lady's game? What did she reallywant?"

  "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 that itwas best for her husband that she should know all. What did she mean bythat? And you must have observed, Watson, how she manoeuvred to have thelight 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 on hernose--that proved to be the correct solution. How can you build on sucha quicksand? Their most trivial action may mean volumes, or their mostextraordinary conduct may depend upon a hairpin or a curling-tongs. Goodmorning, Watson."

  "You are off?"

  "Yes; I will wile away the morning at Godolphin Street with our friendsof the regular establishment. With Eduardo Lucas lies the solution ofour 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 ofthe facts. Do you stay on guard, my good Watson, and receive any freshvisitors. 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 hours, and hardly answered the casualquestions which I put to him. It was evident to me that things were notgoing well with him or his q
uest. He would say nothing of the case, andit was from the papers that I learned the particulars of the inquest,and the arrest with the subsequent release of John Mitton, the valet ofthe deceased. The coroner's jury brought in the obvious "Wilful Murder,"but the parties remained as unknown as ever. No motive was suggested.The room was full of articles of value, but none had been taken. Thedead man's papers had not been tampered with. They were carefullyexamined, and showed that he was a keen student of internationalpolitics, an indefatigable gossip, a remarkable linguist, and anuntiring letter-writer. He had been on intimate terms with the leadingpoliticians of several countries. But nothing sensational was discoveredamong the documents which filled his drawers. As to his relations withwomen, they appeared to have been promiscuous but superficial. He hadmany acquaintances among them, but few friends, and no one whom heloved. His habits were regular, his conduct inoffensive. His death wasan absolute mystery, and likely to remain so.

  As to the arrest of John Mitton, the valet, it was a counsel of despairas an alternative to absolute inaction. But no case could be sustainedagainst him. He had visited friends in Hammersmith that night. The ALIBIwas complete. It is true that he started home at an hour which shouldhave brought 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 overwhelmedby the 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 theyhad been 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 avisitor he 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. Uponthe fourth day there appeared a long telegram from Paris which seemed tosolve 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 ofMr. Eduardo Lucas, who met his death by violence last Monday nightat Godolphin Street, Westminster. Our readers will remember thatthe deceased gentleman was found stabbed in his room, and that somesuspicion attached to his valet, but that the case broke down on anALIBI. 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 thatshe had indeed developed mania of a dangerous and permanent form.On inquiry the police have discovered that Mme. Henri Fournaye onlyreturned from a journey to London on Tuesday last, and there isevidence to connect her with the crime at Westminster. A comparison ofphotographs has proved conclusively that M. Henri Fournaye and EduardoLucas were really one and the same person, and that the deceased had forsome reason lived a double life in London and Paris. Mme. Fournaye,who is of Creole origin, is of an extremely excitable nature, and hassuffered in the past from attacks of jealousy which have amounted tofrenzy. It is conjectured that it was in one of these that she committedthe terrible crime which has caused such a sensation in London. Hermovements upon the Monday night have not yet been traced, but it isundoubted that a woman answering to her description attracted muchattention at Charing Cross Station on Tuesday morning by the wildnessof her appearance and the violence of her gestures. It is probable,therefore, that the crime was either committed when insane, or thatits immediate effect was to drive the unhappy woman out of her mind. Atpresent she is unable to give any coherent account of the past, and thedoctors hold out no hopes of the re-establishment of her reason. Thereis evidence that a woman, who might have been Mme. Fournaye, was seenfor some hours on Monday night watching the house in Godolphin 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.Even now 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 threedays, and that is that nothing has happened. I get reports almost hourlyfrom the Government, and it is certain that nowhere in Europe is thereany sign of trouble. Now, if this letter were loose--no, it CAN'T beloose--but if it isn't loose, where can it be? Who has it? Why is itheld back? That's the question that beats in my brain like a hammer. Wasit, indeed, a coincidence that Lucas should meet his death on the nightwhen the letter disappeared? Did the letter ever reach him? If so, whyis it not among his papers? Did this mad wife of his carry it off withher? If so, is it in her house in Paris? How could I search for itwithout the French police having their suspicions aroused? It is a case,my dear Watson, where the law is as dangerous to us as the criminalsare. Every man's hand is against us, and yet the interests at stake arecolossal. Should I bring it to a successful conclusion it will certainlyrepresent the crowning glory of my career. Ah, here is my latest fromthe front!" He glanced hurriedly at the note which had been handed in."Halloa! Lestrade seems to have observed something of interest. Put onyour hat, Watson, and we will stroll down together to Westminster."

  It was my first visit to the scene of the crime--a high, dingy,narrow-chested house, prim, formal, and solid, like the century whichgave it birth. Lestrade's bulldog features gazed out at us from thefront window, and he greeted us warmly when a big constable had openedthe door and let us in. The room into which we were shown was that inwhich the crime had been committed, but no trace of it now remained,save an ugly, irregular stain upon the carpet. This carpet was a smallsquare drugget in the centre of the room, surrounded by a broad expanseof beautiful, old-fashioned wood-flooring in square blocks highlypolished. Over the fireplace was a magnificent trophy of weapons, one ofwhich had been used on that tragic night. In the window was a sumptuouswriting-desk, and every detail of the apartment, the pictures, the rugs,and the hangings, all pointed to a taste which was luxurious to theverge of effeminacy.

  "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, Iguess, for he kept his life in water-tight compartments. He let herin--couldn't keep her in the street. She told him how she had tracedhim, reproached him, one thing led to another, and then with that daggerso handy the end soon came. It wasn't all done in an instant, though,for these chairs were all swept over yonder, and he had one in his handas if he had tried to hold her off with it. We've got it all clear as ifwe 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 thingyou take an interest in--queer, you know, and what you might callfreakish. It has nothing to do with the main fact--can't have, on theface 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 upa bit. This carpet. You see, it is not fastened down; only just laidthere.
We had occasion 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 underside is as stained as the upper. It must have left amark."

  Lestrade chuckled with delight at having puzzled the famous expert.

  "Now I'll show you the explanation. There IS a second stain, but it doesnot correspond with the other. See for yourself." As he spoke he turnedover another portion of the carpet, and there, sure enough, was a greatcrimson spill upon the square white facing of the old-fashioned floor."What do you make of that, Mr. Holmes?"

  "Why, it is simple enough. The two stains did correspond, but the carpethas been turned round. As it was square and unfastened it was easilydone."

  "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 stainslie above each 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 doneit. 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.Do exactly 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 theedge of it. It hinged back like the lid of a box. A small black cavityopened beneath it. Holmes plunged his eager hand into it, and drew itout with a bitter snarl of anger and disappointment. It was empty.

  "Quick, Watson, quick! Get it back again!" The wooden lid was replaced,and the drugget had only just been drawn straight when Lestrade's voicewas heard in the passage. He found Holmes leaning languidly againstthe mantelpiece, resigned and patient, endeavouring to conceal hisirrepressible 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. Comein here, 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 door lastevening--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 thatmark on the carpet, down she dropped on the floor, and lay as if shewere dead. I ran to the back and got some water, but I could not bringher to. Then I went round the corner to the Ivy Plant for some brandy,and by the time I had brought it back the young woman had recovered andwas off--ashamed of herself, I dare say, 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 itin place. I straightened it out afterwards."

  "It's a lesson to you that you can't deceive me, Constable MacPherson,"said Lestrade, with dignity. "No doubt you thought that your breach ofduty could never be discovered, and yet a mere glance at that druggetwas enough to convince me that someone had been admitted to the room.It's lucky for you, my man, that nothing is missing, or you would findyourself in Queer Street. I'm sorry to have called you down over such apetty business, Mr. Holmes, but I thought the point of the second stainnot corresponding with the first would interest you."

  "Certainly, it was most interesting. Has this woman only been here once,constable?"

  "Yes, sir, only once."

  "Who was she?"

  "Don't know the name, sir. Was answering an advertisement abouttype-writing, 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 might sayshe was handsome. Perhaps some would say she was very handsome. 'Oh,officer, do let me have a peep!' says she. She had pretty, coaxing ways,as you might say, and I thought there was no harm in letting her justput 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 moreimportant 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 burstout laughing as we turned down the street. "Excellent!" said he. "Come,friend Watson, the curtain rings up for the last act. You will berelieved to hear that there will be no war, that the Right HonourableTrelawney Hope will suffer no set-back in his brilliant career, that theindiscreet Sovereign will receive no punishment for his indiscretion,that the Prime Minister will have no European complication to deal with,and that with a little tact and management upon our part nobody will bea penny the worse for what 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 were showninto the morning-room.

  "Mr. Holmes!" said the lady, and her face was pink with her indignation,"this is surely most unfair and ungenerous upon your part. I desired,as I have explained, to keep my visit to you a secret, lest my husbandshould 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 to recover this immensely important paper. I must thereforeask 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 thatshe would faint. Then with a grand effort she rallied from the shock,and a supreme astonishment and indignation chased every other expressionfrom her features.

  "You--you insult me, Mr. Holme
s."

  "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 toavoid a scandal will be frustrated. Give up the letter and all will beset right. If you will work with me I can arrange everything. If youwork against me I must 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 roomlast night, and of the manner in which you took the letter from thehiding-place 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 of awoman cut out of a portrait.

  "I have carried this because I thought it might be useful," said he."The policeman has recognised 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 whenI have 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 Hildawas down on her knees at Holmes's feet, her hands out-stretched, herbeautiful face upturned and wet with her tears.

  "Oh, spare me, Mr. Holmes! Spare me!" she pleaded, in a frenzy ofsupplication. "For Heaven's sake, don't tell him! I love him so! I wouldnot bring one shadow on his life, and this I know would break his nobleheart."

  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 must think ofsome 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 box flewopen. It was stuffed with papers. Holmes thrust the blue envelope deepdown into the heart of them, between the leaves of some other document.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 spendthe time in telling me frankly the real meaning of this extraordinaryaffair."

  "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 Ido, 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 thathe could not forget or pardon a lapse in another. Help me, Mr. Holmes!My happiness, 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 writtenbefore my marriage--a foolish letter, a letter of an impulsive, lovinggirl. I meant no harm, and yet he would have thought it criminal. Had heread that letter his confidence would have been for ever destroyed.It is years since I wrote it. I had thought that the whole matter wasforgotten. Then at last I heard from this man, Lucas, that it had passedinto his hands, and that he would lay it before my husband. I imploredhis mercy. He said that he would return my letter if I would bring him acertain document which he described in my husband's despatch-box. He hadsome spy in the office who had told him of its existence. He assured methat no harm could come to my husband. Put yourself in my position, Mr.Holmes! What was I 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 in a matter of politics I could not understand the consequences,while in a matter 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 Lucasfurnished a duplicate. I opened his despatch-box, took the paper, andconveyed it to Godolphin Street."

  "What happened there, madam?"

  "I tapped at the door as agreed. Lucas opened it. I followed him intohis room, leaving the hall door ajar behind me, for I feared to be alonewith the man. I remember that there was a woman outside as I entered.Our business was soon done. He had my letter on his desk; I handed himthe document. He gave me the letter. At this instant there was a soundat 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!'There was a savage struggle. I saw him with a chair in his hand, a knifegleamed in hers. I rushed from the horrible scene, ran from the house,and only next morning in the paper did I learn the dreadful result. Thatnight I was happy, for I had my letter, and I had not seen yet what thefuture would bring.

  "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 wentto my 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 itwas concealed before this dreadful woman entered the room. If it had notbeen for 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, butthe door was never left open. Last night I made a last attempt. What Idid and how I succeeded, you have already learned. I brought the paperback with me, and thought of destroying it since I could see no way ofreturning it, without confessing my guilt to my husband. Heavens, I hearhis step upon the 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,will you ask the Prime Minister to come up? As to you, dear, I fear thatthis is a matter of politics. We will join yo
u in a few minutes in thedining-room."

  The Prime Minister's manner was subdued, but I could see by the gleamof 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 for ever 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 ofthe 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?"

  "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. Thankyou, Jacobs; put it here. I have always had the key on my watch-chain.Here are the papers, you see. Letter from Lord Merrow, report from SirCharles Hardy, memorandum from Belgrade, note on the Russo-German graintaxes, letter from Madrid, note from Lord Flowers--good heavens! what isthis? 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! Howdid 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 hisvoice on the 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 hathe turned to the door.