A Scandal in Bohemia by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle from the Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.
To Sherlock Holmes, she is always the woman. I have seldom heard
him mention her under any other name. In his eyes, she eclipses and
predominates the whole of her sex. It was not that he felt any emotion
akin to love for Irene Adler. All emotions, and that one particularly were
abhorrent to his cold, precise, but admirably balanced mind. He was,
I take it, the most perfect reasoning and observing machine that the world has
seen. But as a lover he would have placed himself in a false position.
He never spoke of the softer passions, save with a gibe and a
sneer. They were admirable things for the observer, excellent for drawing the veil
from men's motives and actions. But for the trained reasoner, to admit such
intrusions into his own delicate and finely adjusted temperament was to introduce a distracting factor
which might throw a doubt upon all his mental results. Gret in a sensitive
instrument or a crack in one of his own high power lenses would not be
more disturbing than a strong emotion in a nature such as his. And yet
there was but one woman to him, and that woman was the late Irene
Adler, abdubious and questionable memory. I had seen little of Holmes lately.
My marriage had drifted us away from each other. My own complete happiness and
the home centered interest which rise up round the man who first finds himself master
of his own establishment, were sufficient to absorb all my attention. While Holmes,
who loathed every form of society with his whole bohemian soul, remained in
our lodgings in Baker Street, buried among his old books, and alternating from
week to week between cocaine and ambition, the drowsiness of the drug and the
fierce energy of his own keen nature. He was still, as ever,
deeply attracted by the study of crime, and occupied his immense faculties and extraordinary
powers of observation in following out those clues and clearing up those mysteries which had
been abandoned as hopeless by the official police. From time to time I heard
some vague account of his doings, of his summons to Odessa in the case
of the trepof murder, of his clearing up, of the singular tragedy of
the Atkinson brothers at Trincommie, and finally, of the mission which he had
accomplished so delicately and successfully for the reigning family of Holland. Beyond these signs
of his activity, however, which I merely share with all the readers of
the Daily Press, I knew little of my former friend and companion. One
night, it was on the twentieth of March eighteen eighty eight. I was
returning from a journey to a patient, for I had now returned to civil
practice. When my way led me through Baker Street. As I passed the
well remembered door, which must always be associated in my mind with my wooing
and with the dark incidents of the Study and Scarlet, I was seized with
a keen desired see Holmes again and to know how he was employing his extraordinary
powers. His rooms were brilliantly lit, and even as I looked up,
I saw his tall, spare figure pass twice in a dark silhouette against the
blind. He was facing the room swiftly, eagerly, with his head sunk
upon his breast and his hands clasped behind him to me, who knew his
every mood and habit, His attitude and manner told their own story. He
was at work again. He had risen out of his drug created dreams and
was hot upon the scent of some new problem. I rang the bell and
was shown up to the chamber which had formerly been in part my own.
His manner was not effusive, it seldom was, but he was glad I
think to see me, With hardly a word spoken, but with a kindly
eye. He waved me to an arm chair, threw across his case of
cigars, and indicated a spirit case and a misogyny in the corner. Then
he stood before the fire and looked me over in his singular introspective fashion.
Wedlock suit you, He remarked, I think, Watson, that you have
put on seven and a half pounds since I saw you seven. I answered,
indeed, I should have thought a little more, just a trifle more.
I fancy Watson, And in practice again I observed you did not tell
me that you intended to go into harness. Then how do you know I
see it? I deduce it. How do I know that you have been
getting yourself very wet lately? And that you have a most clumsy and careless
servant girl. My dear Holmes, said I, this is too much.
You would certainly have been burned had you lived few centuries ago. It is
true that I had a country walk on Thursday and came home in a dreadful
mass, But as I have changed my clothes, I can't imagine how you
deduce it. As to Mary Jane, she is incorrigible, and my wife
has given her notice. But there again I failed to see how you work
it out. He chuckled to himself and rubbed his long, nervous hands together.
It is simplicity itself, said he. My eyes tell me that on
the inside of your left shoe, just where the fire light strikes it,
the leather is scored by six almost parallel cuts. Obviously they have been caused
by some one who has very carelessly scraped round the edges of the soul in
order to remove crusted mud from it. Hence, you see my double deduction
that you had been out in vile weather, and that you had a particularly
malignant boot slitting specimen of the London slavey As to your practice, if a
gentleman walks into my room smelling of video form, with a black mark of
nightrate of silver upon his right forefinger, and a bulge on the right side
of his top hat to show where he has secreted his stethoscope. I must
be dull, indeed, if I do not pronounce him to be an active
member of the medical profession. I could not help laughing at the ease with
which he explained his process of deduction. When I hear you give your reasons,
I remarked, the thing always appears to me to be so ridiculously simple
that I could easily do it myself, though at each successive instance of your
reasoning, I am baffled until you explain your process. And yet I believe
that my eyes are quite as good as yours. Quite so, he answered,
lighting a cigarette and throwing himself down into an arm chair. You see,
but you do not observe. The distinction is clear. For example,
you have frequently seen the steps which lead up from the hall to this room.
Frequently, how often, well, some hundreds of times. Then how
many are there? How many? I don't know. Quite so you have
not observed, and yet you have seen. That is just my point.
Now, I know that there are seventeen steps because I have both seen and
observed by the way. Since you are interested in these little problems, and
since you are good enough to chronicle one or two of my trifling experiences,
you may be interested in this. He threw over a sheet of thick,
pink tinted note paper, which had been lying open upon the table. It
came by the last post, said, He read it aloud. The note
was undated, and without either signature or address. There will call upon you
to night at a quarter to eight o'clock, it said, a gentleman who
desired to consult you upon a matter of the very deepest moment. Your recent
services to one of the royal houses of Europe have shown that you are one
who may safely be trusted with matters which are of an importance which can hardly
be exaggerated. This account of you we have from all quarters received. Be
in your chamber then at that hour, and do not take it amiss if
your visitor wear a mask. This is indeed a mystery, I remarked,
What do you imagine that it means? I have no data? Yet?
It is a capital mistake to theorize before one has data. Insensibly one begins
to twist facts to shoot theories instead of theories, to shoot facts. But
the note itself, what do you deduce from it? I carefully examined the
writing and the paper upon which it was written. The man who wrote it
was presumably well to do, I remarked, endeavoring to imitate my companion's processes.
Such paper could not be bought under half a crown a packet. It
is peculiarly strong and stiff. Peculiar, that is the very word, said
Holmes. It is not an English paper at all. Hold it up to
the light. I did so, and saw a large E with a small
G, a p E and a large G with a small T woven into
the texture of the paper. What do you make of that? Asked Holmes.
The name of the maker, no doubt, or his monogram, rather
not at all. The G with the small T stands for Geselschaft, which
is the German for company. It is a customary contraction like our c.
O. P, of course stands for papier. No for the E.
G let us glance at our continental gazetteer. He took down a heavy brown
volume from his shelves. Iglow Eglonitz. Here we are Egria. It is
in a German speaking country in Bohemia, not far from Carlsbad, remarkable as
being the scene of the death of Wallenstein, and for its numerous glass factories
and paper mills. Ha ha, my boy, what do you make of
that? His eyes sparkled, and he sent up a great blue, triumphant
cloud from his cigarette. The paper was made in Bohemia, I said,
precisely. And the man who wrote the note is a German. Do you
note the peculiar construction of the sentence. This account of you we have from
all quarters received. A Frenchman or Russian could not have written that. It
is the German who is so uncourteous to his verbs. It only remains,
therefore, to discover what is wanted by this German who writes upon Bohemian paper
and prefers wearing a mask to showing his face. And here he comes,
if I am not mistaken, to resolve all our doubts. As he spoke,
there was a sharp sound of horses hoofs and grating wheels against the curb,
followed by a sharp pull at the bell. Holmes whistled a pair by
the sound, said he yes. He continued glancing out the window a nice
little bruffum and a pair of beauties a hundred and fifty guineas apiece. There's
money in this case, Watson. If there is nothing else, I think
that I had better go, Holmes, not a bit, doctor, stay
where you are. I am lost without my boswell, and this promises to
be interesting. It would be a pity to miss it. But your client
never mind him. I may want your help, and so may he.
Here he comes. Sit down in that arm chair, doctor, and give
us your best attention. A slow and heavy step which had been heard upon
the stairs and in the passage, paused immediately outside the door. Then there
was a loud and authoritative tap. Come in, said Holmes. A man
entered, who could hardly have been less than six feet six inches in height,
with the chest and limbs of a Hercules, his dress, which was
rich with a richness which would in England be looked upon as akin to bad
taste. Heavy bands of astricum were slashed across the sea leaves and fronts of
his devil breasted colt, while the deep blue cloak which was thrown over his
shoulders was lined with a flame colored silk and secured at the neck with a
brooch which consisted of a single flaming barrel. Boots which extended half way up
his calves, and which were trimmed at the tops with rich brown fur,
completed the impression of barbaric opulence, which was suggested by his whole appearance.
He carried a broad brimmed hat in his hand, while he wore across the
upper part of his face, extending down past the cheek bones, a black
vizard mask, which he had apparently adjusted that very moment, for his hand
was still raised to it as he entered from the lower part of the face.
He appeared to be a man of strong character, with a thick,
hanging lip and a long, straight chin, suggestive of resolution pushed to the
length of obstinacy. You had my note, he asked, with a deep,
harsh voice and strongly art German accent. I told you that I would
call. He looked from one to the other office as if uncertain which to
address. Pray, take a seat, said Holmes. This is my friend
and colleague, doctor Watson, who is occasionally good enough to help me in
my cases. Whom have I the honor to address. You may address me
is Count von cram A bohemian nobleman. I understand that this gentleman, your
friend, is a man of honor and discretion, whom I may trust with
a matter of the most extreme importance. If not, I should much prefer
to communicate with you alone. I rose to go, but Holmes caught me
by the wrist and pushed me back into my chair. It is both or
none, said he. You may say before this gentleman anything which you may
say to me. The Count shrugged his broad shoulders. Then I must begin,
said he, by binding you both to absolute secrecy for two years.
At the end of that time, the matter will be of no importance at
present. It is not too much to say that it is of such weight
it may have an influence upon European history, I promise, said Holmes.
And I you will excuse this mask, continued our strange visitor. The august
person who employs me wishes his agent to be unknown to you. And I
may confess at once that the title by which I have just called myself is
not exactly my own. I was aware of it, said Holmes dryly.
The circumstances are of great delicacy, and every precaution has to be taken.
To quench what might grow to be an immense scandal and seriously compromise one of
the reigning families of Europe. To speak plainly, the matter implicates the Great
House of Ormstein, hereditary Kings of Bohemia. I was also aware of that,
murmured Holmes, settling him self down in his arm chair and closing his
eyes. Our visitor glanced with some apparent surprise at the languid, lounging figure
of the man who had been, no doubt depicted to him as the most
incisive reasoner and most energetic agent in Europe. Holmes slowly reopened his eyes and
looked impatiently at his gigantic client. If your Majesty would condescend to state your
case, he remarked, I should be better able to advise you. The
man sprang from his chair and paced up and down the room in uncontrollable agitation.
Then, with a gesture of desperation, he tore the mask from his
face and hurled it upon the ground. You are right, he cried,
I am the King. Why should I attempt to conceal it? Why?
Indeed, murmured Holmes, your Majesty had not spoken before I was aware that
I was addressing Wilhelm Gotthriich, Sigismund uvon Ormstein, Grand Duke of Castelfelstein,
and Hereditary Caing of Bohemia. But you can understand, said our strange visitor,
sitting down once more, and passing his hand over his high white forehead.
You can understand that I am not accustomed to doing such business in my
own person. Yet the matter was so delicate that I could not confide it
to an agent without putting myself in his power. I have come incognito from
Prague for the purpose of consulting you. Then pray consult, said Holmes,
shutting his eyes once more. The facts are briefly these. Some five years
ago, during a lengthy visit to Warsaw, I made the acquaintance of the
well known adventurous Irene Adler. The name is no doubt familiar to you.
Kindly look her up in my index, doctor murmured Holmes, without opening his
eyes. For many years he had adopted a system of docketing all paragraphs concerning
men and things, so that it was difficult to name a subject or a
person on which he could not at once furnish information. In this case,
I found her biography sandwiched in between that of a Hebrew rabbi and that of
a staff commander who had written a monograph upon the deep sea fishes. Let
me see, said Holmes hum born in New Jersey in the year eighteen fifty
eight, contralto hum Lescola MM Primadonna Imperial Opera warsaw Yes retired from operatic stage
a living in London. Quite so, your Majesty, as I understand,
became entangled with this young person, wrote her some compromising letters and is now
desirous of getting those letters back. Precisely so. But how was there a
secret marriage? None? No legal papers or certificates. None. Then I
failed to follow your majesty. If this young person should produce her letters for
blackmailing or other purposes, how is she to prove their authenticity? There is
the writing POOFU forgery, my private notepaper, stolen, my own seal,
imitated my photograph bot we were both in the photograph. Oh dear, that
is very bad. Your majesty has indeed committed an indiscretion. I was mad,
insane. You have compromised yourself. Seriously, I was only a crown
prince then I was young, I am, but thirty. Now it must
be recovered. We have tried and failed. Your majesty must pay. It
must be bought. She will not sell stolen. Then five attempts have been
made. Twice burglars in my pay, ransacked her house once, we diverted
her luggage when she traveled twice. She has been waylaid. There has been
no result, no sign of it, absolutely none, Holmes laughed. It
is quite a pretty little problem, said he, But a very serious one
to me, returned The king reproachfully, very indeed. And what does she
propose to do with the photograph? To ruin me? But how I am
about to be married? So I have heard to Clotilda Lothmann bon Saxon Minningen,
second daughter of the King of Scandinavia. You may know the strict principles
of her family. She is herself the very soul of delicacy. A shadow
of a doubt as to my conduct would bring the matter to an end.
And ivery Nadler threatens to send them the photograph, and she will do it.
I know that she will do it. You do not know her,
but she has a soul of steel. She has the face of the most
beautiful of women and the mind of the most resolute of men, rather than
I should marry another woman. There are no lengths to which she would not
go none. You are sure that she has not sent it yet. I
am sure, and why because she has said that she would send it on
the day when the betrothal was publicly proclaimed. That will be next Monday.
Oh, then we have three day shat, said Holmes with a yawn.
That is very fortunate, as I have one or two matters of importance to
look into just at present. Your Majesty will of course stay in London for
the present. Certainly you will find me at the Langham under the name of
the Count Boncrombe. Then I shall drop you a line to let you know
how we progress. Pray do so I shall be all anxiety. Then,
as to the you have carte blanc, absolutely I tell you that I would
give one of the provinces of my kingdom to have that photograph and for present
expenses. The King took a heavy chamois leather bag from under his cloak and
laid it on the table. There are three hundred pounds in gold and seven
hundred in notes. He said Holmes, scribbled a receipt upon a sheet of
his note book and handed it to him and Mademoiselle's adress. He asked,
is Briony Lodge, Serpentine Avenue, Saint John's Wood. Holmes took a note
of it one other questions, said he was the photograph a cabinet. It
was then good night, your majesty, and I trust that we shall soon
have some good news for you. And good night Watson, he added,
as the wheels of the Royal Bruffam rolled down the street. If you will
be good enough to call tomorrow afternoon at three o'clock, I should like to
cat this little matter over with you. At three o'clock precisely, I was
at Baker Street, but Holmes had not yet returned. The landlady informed me
that he had left the house shortly after eight o'clock in the morning. I
sat down beside the fire, however, with the intention of awaiting him,
however long he might be. I was already deeply interested in his inquiry,
for though it was surrounded by none of the grim and strange features which were
associated with the two crimes which I have already recorded, still the nature of
the case and the exalted station of his client gave it a character of its
own. Indeed, apart from the nature of the investigation which my friend had
on hand, there was something in his masterly grasp of a situation and his
keen, incisive reasoning, which made it a pleasure to me to study his
system of work and to follow the quick, subtle methods by which he disentangled
the most inextricable mysteries. So accustomed was I to his invariable success, that
the very possibility of his failing had ceased to enter into my head. It
was close upon four before the door opened, and a drunken looking groom,
ill camped and side whiskered, with an inflamed face and disreputable clothes, walked
into the room. Accustomed as I was to my friend's amazing powers in the
use of disguises, I had to look three times before I was certain that
it was indeed he. With a nod, he vanished into the bedroom.
Whence he emerged in five minutes, tweed suited and respectable as of old.
Putting his hands into his pockets, he stretched out his legs in front of
the fire and laughed heartily for some minutes. Well, really, he cried,
and then choked and laughed again until he was obliged to slide back,
limp and helpless in the chair. What is it? It's quite too funny.
I am sure you could never guess how I employed my mourning or what
I ended by doing. I can't imagine. I suppose that you have been
watching the habits, and perhaps the house of Miss Irene Adler quite so.
But the sequel was rather unusual. I will tell you, however. I
left the house a little after eight o'clock this morning in the character of a
groom out of work. There is a wonderful sympathy and freemasonry among Horsey men.
Be one of them, and you will know all that there is to
know. I soon found be on a lodge. It is a bije villa
with a garden at the back, but built out in front. Ride up
to the road two stories chubb blocked to the door, large sitting room on
the right side, well furnished with long windows almost to the floor, and
those preposterous English window fasteners which a child could open behind. There was nothing
remarkable save that the passage window could be reached from the top of the coach
house. I walked round it and examined it closely from every point of view,
but without knowing anything else of interest. I then lounged down the street
and found, as I expected, that there was a muse in a lane
which runs down by one wall of the garden. I lent the ostlers a
hand in rubbing down their horses, and received an exchanged twopence, a glass
of half and half, two fills of shagged tobacco, and as much information
as I could desire about miss Adler, to say nothing of half a dozen
other people in the neighborhood, in whom I was not in the least interested,
but whose biographies I was compelled to listen to. And what of Irene
Adler, I asked, Oh, she has turned all the men's heads down
in that part. She is the daintiest thing under a bonnet on this planet,
So say the serpentine muse to a man. She lived quietly, sings
at concerts, drives out at five every day, and returns at seven sharp
for dinner. Seldom goes out at other times except when she sings. Has
only one male visitor, but a good deal of him. He is dark,
handsome and dashing, never calls less than once a day, and often
twice. He is a mister Godfrey Norton of the Inner Temple. See the
advantages of a cabman as a confidant. They had driven him home a dozen
times from Serpentine Muse and knew all about him. When I had listened to
all they had to tell, I began to walk up and down near Brionny
Lodge once more, and to think over my plan of campaign. This Godfrey
Norton was evidently an important factor in the matter. He was a lawyer.
That sounded ominous. What was the relation between them? And what the object
of his repeated visits? Was she his client, his friend or his mistress.
If the former, she had probably transferred the photograph to his keeping.
If the latter, it was less likely. On the issue of this question
depended whether I should continue my work at Brionny Lodge or turn my attention to
the gentleman's chambers in the Temple. It was a delicate point, and it
widened the field of my inquiry. I fear that I bore you with these
details, but I have to let you see my little difficulties. If you
are to understand the situation, I am following you closely, I answered.
I was still balancing the matter in my mind when a handsome cab drove up
to beyond a lodge, and a gentleman sprang out. He was a remarkably
handsome man, dark aquiline and mustache, evidently the man of whom I had
heard. He appeared to be in a great hurry, shouted to the cabman
to wait, and brushed past the maid, who opened the door with the
air of a man who was thoroughly at home. He was in the house
about half an hour, and I could catch glimpses of him in the windows
of the sitting room, pacing up and down, talking excitedly, and waving
his arms of her I could see nothing. Presently he emerged, looking even
more flurried than before, and as he stepped up to the cab, he
pulled a gold watch from his pocket and looked at it earnestly. Drive like
the devil, he shouted, first to Gross and Hankes in Regent Street,
and then to the church at Saint Monica in the Edgeware Road. Half a
guinea if you do it in twenty minutes away they went, and I was
just wondering whether I should not do well to follow them. When up the
lane came a neat little Landau, the coachman with his coat only half buttoned
and his tie under his ear, while all the tags of his harness were
sticking out of the buckles. It hadn't pulled up before she shot out of
the hall door and into it. I only caught a glimpse of her at
the moment, but she was a lovely woman with a face that a man
might die for. The Church at Saint Monica, John, she cried,
and half a sovereign if you reach it in twenty minutes. This was quite
too good to lose, Watson. I was just balancing whether I should run
for it or whether I should behind her Landau. When a cab came through
the street. The driver looked twice at such a shabby fare, but I
jumped in before he could object. The Church at Saint Monica, said I,
and half a sovereign if you reach it in twenty minutes. It was
twenty five minutes to twelve, and of course it twas clear enough what was
in the wind. My cabby drove fast. I don't think I ever drove
faster, but the others were there before us. The cab and the landau,
with their steaming horses, were in front of the door. When I
arrived, I paid the man and hurried into the church. There was not
a soul there save the two whom I had followed, and a surpliced clergyman
who seemed to be expostulating with them. They were all three standing in a
knot in front of the altar. I lounged up the side aisle like any
other idler who has dropped into a church. Suddenly, to my surprise,
the three at the altar faced round to me, and Godfrey Norton came,
running as hard as he could towards me. Thank goodness, he cried,
you'll do Come? Come what? Then? I asked, come, man,
come only three minutes or it won't be legal. I was half dragged
up to the altar, and before I knew where I was, I found
myself mumbling responses which were whispered in my ear, and vouching for things of
which I knew nothing, and generally assisting in the secure tying up of Irene
Adler Spinster to Godfrey Norton bachelor. It was all done in an instant,
and there was the gentleman thanking me on the one side and the lady on
the other, while the clergyman beamed on me in front. It was the
most preposterous position in which I ever found myself in my life, and it
was the thought of it that started me laughing. Just now. It seems
that there had been some informality about their license, that the clergyman absolutely refused
to marry them without a witness of some sort, and that my lucky appearance
saved the bridegroom from having to sally out into the streets in search of a
best man. The bride gave me a sovereign and I mean to wear it
on my watch chain in memory of the occasion. This is a very unexpected
turn of affairs, said I. And what then, Well, I found
my plans very seriously menaced. It looked as if the pair might take an
immediate departure, and so necessitate very prompt and energetic measures on my part.
At the church door, however, they separated, he driving back to the
temple and she to her own house. I shall drive out in the park
at five as usual, she said, as she left him. I heard
no more. They drove away in different directions, and I went off to
make my own arrangements, which are some cold beef and a glass of beer,
he answered, ringing the bell. I have been too busy to think
of food, and I am likely to be busier still this evening. By
the way, doctor, I shall want your operation. I shall be delighted.
You don't mind breaking the law, not in the least your running a
chance of arrest, not in a good cause. Oh, the cause is
excellent that I am your man. I was sure that I might rely on
you. But what is it you wish? When missus Turner has brought in
the tray, I will make it clear to you now, he said,
as he turned hungrily on the simple fare that our landlady had provided. I
must discuss it while I eat, for I have not much time. It
is nearly five now. In two hours we must be on the scene of
action. Miss Irene or Madame rather returns from her drive at seven. We
must be at Briony Lodge to meet her. And what then? You must
leave that to me. I have already arranged what is to occur. There
is only one point on which I must insist. You must not interfere.
Come what may you understand. I am to be neutral, to do nothing
whatever. There will probably be some small and pleasantness. Do not join in.
It will end in my being conveyed into the house. Four or five
minutes afterwards, the sitting room window will open. You are to station yourself
close to that open window. Yes, you are to watch me, for
I will be visible to you. Yes. And when I raise my hand
so you will throw into the room what I give you to throw, and
will at the same time raise the cry of fire. You quite follow me
entirely. It is nothing very formidable, he said, taking a long cigar
shaped roll from his pocket. It is an ordinary plumber's smoke rocket, fitted
with a cap at either end to make itself lighting. Your task is confined
to that when you raise your cry of fire, it will be taken up
by quite a number of people. You may then walk to the end of
the street, and I will rejoin you in ten minutes. I hope that
I have made myself clear. I am to remain neutral, to get near
the window, to watch you, and at the signal to throw in this
object, then to raise the cry of fire, and to wait you at
the corner of the street. Precisely. Then you may entirely rely on me.
That is excellent. I think perhaps it is almost time that I prepare
for the new role I have to play. He disappeared into his bedroom and
returned in a few minutes in the character of an amiable and simple minded nonconformist
clergyman. His broad black hat, his baggy trousers, his white tie,
his sympathetic smile, and general look of peering and benevolent curiosity were such as
mister John Hare alone could have equalled. It was not merely that Holmes changed
his costume. His expression, his manner, his very soul seemed to vary
with every fresh part that he assumed. The stage lost a fine actor,
even as science lost an acute reasoner when he became a specialist in crime.
It was a quarter past six when we left Baker Street, and it still
wanted ten minutes to the hour when we found ourselves in Serpentine Avenue. It
was already dusk, and the lamps were just being lighted as we paced up
and down in front of Brionny Lodge, waiting for the coming of its occupant.
The house was just such as I had pictured it from Sherlock holmes succinct
description, but the locality appeared to be less private than I expected. On
the contrary, for a small street in a quiet neighborhood, it was remarkably
animated. There was a group of shabbily dressed mens, smoking and laughing in
a corner, a scissors grinder with its wheel, two guardsmen who were flirting
with a nurse girl, and several well dressed young men who were lounging up
and down with cigars in their mouths. You see, remarked Holmes, as
we paced to and fro in front of the house. This marriage rather simplifies
matters. The photograph becomes a double edged weapon. Now the chances are that
she would be as averse to its being seen by mister Godfrey Norton as our
client is to its coming to the eyes of his princess. Now the question
is where are we to find the photograph where? Indeed, it is most
unlikely that she carries it about with her. It is cabinet size too large
for easy concealment about a woman's dress. She knows that the King is capable
of having her waylaid and searched. Two attempts of the sort have already been
made. We may take it that she does not carry it about with her
where then her banker or her liar. There is that double possibility. But
I am inclined to think neither. Women are naturally secretive, and they like
to do their own secreting. Why should she hand it over to any one
else? She could trust her own guardianship, but she could not tell what
indirect or political influence might be brought to bear upon a business man. Besides,
remember that she had resolved to use it within a few days. It
must be where she can lay her hands upon it. It must be in
her own house. But it has twice been burgled. Pshah. They did
not know how to look. But how will you look? I will not
look what then? I will get her to show me, But she will
refuse. She will not be able to. But I hear the rumble of
wheels. It is her carriage. Now carry out my orders to the letter.
As he spoke, the gleam of the side lights of a carriage came
round the curve of the avenue. It was a smart little Landau which rattled
up to the door of Briony Lodge. As it pulled up, one of
the loafing men at the corner dashed forward to open the door in the hope
of earning a copper, but was elbowed away by another loafer who had rushed
up with the same intention. A fierce quarrel broke out, which was increased
by the two guardsmen, who took sides with one of the loungers, and
by the sitters grinder, who was equally hot upon the other side. A
blow was struck, and in an instant the lady, who had stepped from
her carriage, was the center of a little knot of flushed and struggling men
who struck savagely at each other with their fists and sticks. Holmes dashed into
the crowd to protect the lady, but just as he reached her, he
gave a cry and dropped to the ground, with the blood running freely down
his face. At his fall, the guardsmen took to their heels in one
direction and the loungers in the other, while a number of better dressed people
who had watched the scuffle without taking part in it, crowded in to help
the lady and to attend to the injured man. Irene Adler, as I
will still call. Her had hurried up the steps, but she stood at
the top with her superb figure outlined against the lights of the hall, looking
back into the street. Is the poor gentleman much hurt? She asked?
He is dead, cried several voices. No, no, there's life in
him, shouted another. But he'll be gone before we can get him to
hospital. He's a brave fellow, said a woman. They would have had
the lady's purse and watch if it hadn't been for him. They were a
gang, and a rough one too. Ah, he's breathing now. He
can't lie in the street. May we bring him in, marm surely bring
him into the sitting room. There is a comfortable sofa this way, please,
slowly and solemnly. He was born into Brionny Lodge and laid out in
the principal room while I still observed the proceedings from my post by the window.
The lamps had been lit, but the blinds had not been drawn,
so that I could see Holmes as he lay upon the couch. I do
not know whether he was seized with compunction at that moment for the part he
was playing, but I know that I never felt more heartily ashamed of myself
in my life than when I saw the beautiful creature against whom I was conspiring,
or the grace and kindliness with which she waited upon the injured man.
And yet it would be the blackest treachery to Holmes to draw back now from
the part which he had entrusted to me. I hardened my heart and took
the smoke rocket from under my ulster. After all, I thought, we
are not injuring her. We are but preventing her from injuring another. Holmes
had sat up upon the couch, and I saw him motion like a man
who was in need of air. A maid rushed across and threw open the
window. At the same instant I saw him raise his hand, and at
the signal, I tossed my rocket into the room with a cry of fire.
The word was no sooner out of my mouth than the whole crowd of
spectators, well dressed and ill, gentlemen, ostlers and servant maids, joined
in a general shriek of fire. Thick clouds of smoke curled through the room
and out At the open window, I caught a glimpse of rushing figures,
and a moment later the voice of Holmes from within, assuring them that it
was a false alarm. Slipping through the shouting crowd, I made my way
to the corner of the street, and in ten minutes was rejoiced to find
my friend's arm in mine and to get away from the scene of uproar.
He walked swiftly and in silence for some few minutes until we had turned down
one of the quiet streets which led towards the Edgeware Road. You did it
very nicely, doctor, he remarked. Nothing could have been better. It
is all all right. You have the photograph. I know where it is.
And how did you find out? She showed me as I told you
she would. I am still in the dark. I do not wish to
make a mystery, said he, laughing. The matter was perfectly simple.
You, of course saw that every one in the street was in an accomplice.
They were all engaged for the evening. I guessed as much. Then
when the row broke out, I had a little moist red paint in the
palm of my hand. I rushed forward, fell down, clapped my hand
to my face, and became a piteous spectacle. It is an old trick
that also I could fathom. Then they carried me in. She was bound
to have me in what else could she do? And into her sitting room,
which was the very room which I suspected. It lay between that and
her bedroom, and I was determined to see which. They laid me on
a couch. I motioned for air. They were compelled to open the window,
and you had your chance. How did that help you? It was
all important. When a woman thinks that her house is on fire, her
instinct is at once to rush to the thing which she values most. It
is a perfectly overpowering impulse, and I have more than once taken advantage of
it. In the case of the Darlington substitution scandal it was of use to
me, and also in the Arnsworth Castle business. A married woman grabs at
her baby, an unmarried one reaches for her jewel box. Now it was
clear to me that our lady of to day had nothing in the house more
precious to her than what we are in quest of. She would rush to
secure it. The alarm of fire was admirably done. The smoke and shouting
were enough to shake nerves of steel. She responded beautifully. The photograph is
in a recess behind a sliding panel just above the right bell pull. She
was there in an instant, and I caught a glimpse of it as she
half drew it out. When I cried out that it was a false alarm,
she replaced it, glanced at the rocket, rushed from the room,
and I have not seen her since I rose and making my excuses escape from
the house. I hesitated whether to attempt to secure the photograph at once,
but the coachman had come in, and as he was watching me narrowly,
it seemed safer to wait a little over precipitance may ruin all. And now
I asked, our quest is practically finished. I shall call with the king
tomorrow and with you, if you care to come with us. We will
be shown into the sitting room to wait for the lady. But it is
probable that when she comes she may find neither us nor the photograph. It
might be a satisfaction to his majesty to regain it with his own hand.
And when would you call? At eight in the morning, she will not
be up, so that we shall have a clear field. Besides, we
must be prompt, for this marriage may mean a complete change in her life,
and habits. I must wire to the king without delay. We had
reached Baker Street and had stopped at the door. He was searching his pockets
for the key when some one passing said good night, mister Sherlock Holmes.
There were several people on the pavement at the time, but the greeting appeared
to come from a slim youth in an ulster who had hurried by. I've
heard that voice before, said Holmes, staring down the dimly lit street.
Now I wonder who the deuce that could have been. I slept at Baker
Street that night, and we were engaged upon our toast and coffee in the
morning when the King of Bohemia rushed into the room. You have really got
it, he cried, grasping Sherlock Holmes by either shoulder and looking eagerly into
his face. Not yet, but you have hopes. I have hopes.
Then come, I am all impatience to be gone. We must have a
cab. No, my Bruffhelm is waiting. Then that will simplify matters.
We descended and started off once more for Brionny Lodge. I reenn Adler is
married, remarked Holmes. Married. When yesterday but to whom to an English
lawyer named Norton, but she could not love him. I am in hopes
that she does, and why in hopes, because it would spare your Majesty
all fear of future annoyance. If the lady loves her husband, she does
not love your majesty. If she does not love your Majesty, there is
no reason why she should interfere with your Majesty's plan. It is true,
and yet well I wish she had been of my own station. What a
queen she would have made. He relapsed into moody silence, which was not
broken until we drew up in Serpentine Avenue. The door of Brionny Lodge was
open, and an elderly woman stood upon the steps. She watched us with
a sardonic eye as we stepped from them. Mister Chulock Holmes, I believe,
said she, I am Holmes, answered my companion, looking at her
with a questioning and rather startled gaze. Indeed, my mistress told me that
you were likely to call. She left this morning with her husband by the
five fifteen train from sharing Cross for the continent. What Sherlock holmestaggered back white
withered Grian in surprise. Do you mean that she has left England never to
return? And the papers asked the King hoarsely, all is lost, we
shall see. He pushed past the servant and rushed into the drawing room,
followed by the King and myself. The furniture was scattered about in every direction,
with dismantled shelves and open drawers, as if the lady had hurriedly ransacked
them before her flight. Holmes rushed at the bell, pull tore back a
small slighting shutter, and plunging in his hand, pulled out a photograph and
a letter. The photograph was of Irene Adler herself an evening dress. The
letter was superscribed to Sherlock Holmes esquire to be left till called for. My
friend tore it open and we all three read it together. It was dated
at midnight of the preceding night, and ran in this way. You really
did it very well. You took me in completely. Until after the alarm
of fire, I had not a suspicion. But then when I found how
I had betrayed myself, I began to think I had been warned against you
months ago. I had been told that if the King employed an agent.
It would certainly be you, and your address had been given me. Yet
with all this you made me reveal what you wanted to know. Even after
I became suspicious, I found it hard to think evil of such a dear,
kind old clergyman. But you know I have been trained as an actress
myself. Mail costume is nothing new to me. I often take advantage of
the freedom which it gives. I sent John the coachman to watch you,
ran upstairs, got into my walking clothes, as I called them, and
came down just as you departed. Well, I followed you to your door,
and so made sure that I was really an object of interest to this
celebrated mister Sherlock Holmes. Then I rather imprudently wished you good night and started
for the temple to see my husband. We both thought the best resource was
flight when pursued by so formidable an antagonist. So you will find the nest
empty when you call tomorrow. As to the photograph, your client may rest
in peace. I love, and I am loved by a better man than
he. The King may do what he will without hindrance from one whom he
has cruelly wronged. I keep it only to safeguard myself and to preserve a
weapon which will always secure me from any steps which he might take in the
future. I leave a photograph which he might care to possess, and I
remained, dear mister Sherlock Holmes, truly yours Irene Norton nay Adler. What
a woman, Oh, what a woman, cried the King of Bohemia,
when we had all three read this epistle. Did I not tell you how
quick and resolute she was? Would she not have made an admirable queen?
Is it not a pity that she was not on my level? From what
I have seen of the lady, she seems indeed to be on a very
different level to your Majesty, said Holmes coldly. I am sorry that I
have not been able to bring your Majesty's business to a more successful conclusion.
On the contrary, my dear sir, cried the King, nothing could be
more successful. I know that her word is in violate. The photograph is
now as safe as if it were in the fire. I am glad to
hear your Majesty say so. I am immensely indebted to you. Pray tell
me in what way I can reward you this ring. He slipped an emerald
snake ring from his finger and held it out upon the palm of his hand.
Your Majesty has something which I should value even more highly, said Rolmes.
You have but to name it this photograph. The king stared at him
in amazement. Irene's photograph. He cried, certainly, if you wish it,
I thank your majesty, then there is no more to be done in
the matter. I have the honor to wish you a very good morning.
He bowed, and, turning away, without observing the hand which the King
had stretched out to him, he set off in my company for his chambers.
And that was how a great scandal threatened to affect the Kingdom of Bohemia,
and how the best plans of mister Sherlock Holmes were beaten by a woman's
wit. He used to make merry over the cleverness of women, but I
have not heard him do it of late, And when he speaks of Irene
Adler, or when he referred to her photograph, it is always under the
honorable title of the woman. End of a Scandal in Bohemia by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle